Fire Will Burn
by excusemewhileiasdfghjkl
Summary: SET AFTER 'A New Uprising'. After Lycaon's attack on Camp Half-Blood, things started to quiet down. But now, Second Generation Demigods are at the heart of another Great Prophecy. Their mission? Stop Chaos from rising and damning everything to eternal mayhem. Five unsuspecting demigods hold the fate of the entire world in their hands. So, no pressure. Reviews greatly appreciated!
1. 1: Celestia

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-1-

Celestia

* * *

Crap. I was going to be in so much trouble. I packed up my things as quickly as I could, my hands flying across the table to shepherd all my study materials towards me. Somehow, I had managed to spread them across the entire table. I sighed heavily. I was supposed to have been keeping an eye on the time while I was studying, but I had gotten distracted reading, again. Someone was going to realise I had snuck out last night. I was so screwed. I hurriedly shoved my pencils and paper into my satchel, swinging it onto my shoulder. It groaned in protest, the few stitches that were still holding it together stretching. It really wouldn't put up with much more strain, but I didn't have the heart to replace it. It may be old and worn, and the green colouring may have faded to almost grey, but we had been through quite a lot together. I slid out the side of the booth that I had sat in for the past couple of hours or so and walked quickly down the aisle between the other tables. I walked with my head down, and I was in such a rush that I didn't even stop to marvel at the intricate interior design of the library like I normally did. I was so caught up in my own thoughts of exactly how much trouble I would be in, that I completely collided with the boy browsing the bookshelves along the walkway.

"Oi," he grunted, spinning to face me.

It was Peter. The biggest asshole in town and, quite possibly, in the whole of the city of LA. It was a wonder that I hadn't noticed him while I was walking, considering his large frame took up most of the walkway. Ever since I had started living here, Peter had decided that I was an easy target, considering where I lived. I had very quickly proved him wrong.

"Well, who would have guessed you actually knew how to read?" I said contemptuously, moving as if to walk past him. Yeah right, the fool probably had something due tomorrow and was trying in vain to submit something vaguely legible. As per usual. Peter grabbed my arm.

"You better watch yourself, Lightwood," he snarled, his pudgy face crushed up in what I assumed was a scowl.

I looked pointedly at the hand holding me and then back at Peter's ruddy face. I raised my eyebrows.

"Do you remember what I said last time, Peter?" I patronized, shaking my head, "I hope so. I'll be mad if you've forgotten."

A pause ensued.

"Well, I'm going to give you the benefit of doubt, on account of your ignorance."

I stepped closer, resisting to the urge to gag at his stench. I'm not particularly tall, but I was tall enough to look him in the eye.

"I said," I continued, still in the same slow, patronizing manner, "That if you touch me again it wouldn't just be your wrist I break. Remember now?"

I smiled coldly, driving home my threat.

Peter's eye twitched and he scrunched his face up harder, but he let go of my arm. He backed up a step, his chubby arms held up in surrender.

"One day, someone will make you pay for that big mouth of yours, Lightwood," he smirked, turning back to the shelf.

I rolled my eyes, and dramatically brushed down my arms and clothes.

I started to continue on my way, but I stopped, feeling like I forgetting something. I twisted my earrings, trying to remember. Oh, of course! I doubled back to the reservation desk. Here I let my rough façade drop and smiled warmly at the old woman behind the desk.

"Was that boy over there giving you trouble, Celestia?" Glenda scowled, putting down her book and looking over the rims of her glasses, "Because if he was, I'll set Bill on him."

I gave a small snort of laughter as I imagined old Bill chasing Peter around town.

"I'm serious," Glenda said, poking me in her shoulder, "If he is causing trouble, he's out of here."

I shook my head, a rare smile twitching at the corner of my mouth. Even though it would be extremely satisfying.

"I assume you're here to see if any of your reservations have come in?" Glenda asked me over her shoulder as she turned to the shelf behind her. "There's nothing here for you yet, but that Cassandra Clare book you've been waiting for should be in tomorrow."

My heart soared. I had been on the waiting list for this book for months. Glenda glanced at the clock on the far wall and frowned.

"Shouldn't you be going, Celestia?" she asked, pointing at the clock.

Right.

I spun back to the door, shouting a hurried goodbye to Glenda. I was going to be late.

...

Turning one last corner, I came to a stop in front of the wrought iron gates that led to the hell house I called 'home'. I slowed my pace to a casual jog, catching my breath. The small garden full of ivory and thorny red roses was deserted, the dirty, thin windows of the house lit up by the lanterns inside. My worst suspicions confirmed; I was late. I sighed heavily, pushing the gates open with care. Despite my caution, their hinges creaked hideously, echoing off the stone walls. So much for a stealth entrance. I crept along the pathway to the large oak door, keeping my ears tuned into the sounds of the house. The clattering of dishes in the kitchen as the other girls prepared or, more likely at this hour cleaned up, breakfast. The hard thumps of someone rushing up the stairs to their room. I reached the door and stretched my arm out to knock, tensing myself. Before my hand could so much as graze the chipped red paint of the door it was yanked open from the inside. Ms Ives bloated form filled the door.

"And where," she breathed, "Were you?"

I started to explain but Ms Ives grabbed my arm close to my shoulder, practically dragging me through the entrance hall and into the kitchen. My knapsack slipped off my shoulder and fell to the ground, spilling its contents. For a fat old lady, she had some strength.

"This is the last straw, _Celestia_ ," she chided, using my name like a curse, "You know the rules. You have already broken curfew five times." She paused squinting her bloodshot eyes at me.

"That is," she continued, squeezing my arm hard enough for it to hurt a bit, "Not counting the number of times I am sure you have snuck out without us noticing."

I swallowed drily.

"Please…" I tried, but Ms Ives cut me off with a knobbly finger.

"Now, _Celestia_ ," she rebuked, "It is a proper _establishment_ that I run here. You must understand that bad behaviour must be _punished_."

Gods did I know.

"I think," Ms Ives continued smiling horribly, "That an increase in rent would be a more than _fair_ retribution, don't you?"

Hell no. But I didn't say anything. As much as I hated it here, and I really hated it, Ms Ives was all I had. Ms Ives nodded.

"Double what you are currently paying for housing and food," she concluded, turning her back to me, "Paid weekly."

I swayed on my feet, doing the calculations in my head. I couldn't afford that. I was hardly scraping in enough coin to pay as it was, and that was paying fortnightly.

"Also."

Oh, bloody hell, what else? I heard the jangling of coins. I turned back to the table. A handful of coins glittered on its newly polished surface. Just enough to get me to my next payment. And she knew it. Ms Ives smiled cruelly.

"It seems I have missed breakfast," she remarked, "Would you be a _dear_ and go down to the bakery and get me some pastries?"

I raised my chin. Fine. I'd play Ms Ives little game.

"Of course Ms Ives, and what pastries in particular would you like?" I asked politely against all my bodily instincts.

I pocketed the coins.

"Whatever you think I would enjoy," Ms Ives replied, waving her hand in dismissal.

I started gathering my study materials from where they had spilt on the floor.

"What are you doing?"

I stopped, and glanced up at her.

"I said get my pastries, not _dawdle_ around, off with you."

I took a deep breath and turned back to the kitchen, glaring at Ms Ives.

Say something.

Don't.

A war raged in my mind. But I couldn't. I couldn't risk it. So, with another deep breath I turned around, rotated the handle, opened the door and was gone.

...

My stomach rumbled in protest as I joined the morning line at the bakery. The pastries smelled absolutely amazing. I waited, inhaling the fresh bread fumes, until I reached my spot at the front of the line and placed my order. Thanking the young man behind the counter, I started heading back, guarded stares following my footsteps. Most people in this town knew me or at least knew of me; weird name, even weirder girl. Even if they didn't, they recognised my clothes. They were simple and plain; a pair of dirty, wheat-coloured trousers that were stained from all the yard and house work I was forced to do and a lack of bleach. They didn't fit around my frame, which I knew was way too slim for a fifteen-year-old. My dark grey shirt was just as dirty and torn, hanging loosely off my shoulders. My dark blonde hair was just one big knot and although no grime stained my face, I know I looked dirty. I walked with my head down, trying to ignore my stomach's growling, hardly paying attention, when someone caught my eye. There was a girl waiting in the line, dressed in the same worn outfit that I was. But I had never seen this girl before. I squinted. There was something...off…about her. I sat down on one of the small tables around the courtyard to take a better look. Maybe it was nothing, but my instincts rarely let me down. I focused on the girl, peeling back any layers of Mist that might conceal anything weird from the mortals. I nearly fell out of my chair.

"Oh Gods," I muttered, regaining my seat.

The pretty disguise was gone. In its place stood a pale woman with glowing red eyes and fangs. Gods, her fangs were huge, like a mutant wolves. And her head was on fire. I looked down to the things legs. Like I'd assumed, one was a shiny prosthetic bronze leg, and the other a donkey's.

It was an empousa.

I knew a little about empousai from my research, but not much. They were daughters of Hecate and a spirit called Mormo. They would seduce men and feed on their blood while they slept, like a modern-day vampire. They were fast and their claws were extremely sharp, sharp enough to even cut through bone in the right circumstances. I evaluated the situation. Either, I confronted the empousa here and risked a mortal getting in the way or I got it's attention and drew it away to somewhere isolated where I could kill it. But first, I had to get my swords from where they were hidden in my room. I rose from the chair, making sure to watch the empousa for any hostile movements. I glanced around the courtyard, looking for a safe path out. I turned back, but the empousa was gone. I swore and rotated again, trying to spot her in the gathering crowd.

"Looking for me?" taunted a voice from behind me.

Well, that answered _that_ question. I turned again, facing the empousa.

"Demigod," it snarled.

"Donkey," I retorted.

I turned on my heel and ran, the empousa's outraged shriek following me.

...

Within five minutes I was absolutely sick of running. I wasn't wearing my sneakers so my feet were starting to get sore and I was already pretty short of breath. But, the empousa clearly wasn't giving up and I could see out of the corner of my eye its shadow, and another, were darting in and out of the buildings behind me.

Great. I'd made not one enemy, but two.

I turned my head again, momentarily running backwards to catch a glimpse of my pursuers. They were closer and I counted at _least_ two shadows. I turned and picked up the pace, my side complaining. This was just bloody great. I didn't even have any weapons to fight them with. My swords were still hidden in the mattress in my room and there was no way I could run back and grab them before the empousai caught up. Just my bloody luck. The pastries from the bakery swung in their little bag. And what the hell was I supposed to do with these? Dump them somewhere and come back for them later? I looked around quickly as I ran. Rolling my eyes, I chucked them on a passing windowsill. Maybe Ms Ives would die of food poisoning and do us all a favour. I sighed, darting inside the butcher. It was too early in the morning for this. I barrelled through the workers inside, throwing elbows, shouts and clattering following in my wake. The empousai hissed angrily at the workers, shoving their way through the crowd.

"Help, please help, these girls are going to hurt me!" I shrieked.

Which, I guess, they kinda were. It seemed to have the desired result on the workers and they began to move to grab the empousai. I sprinted away, helping myself to some of the meat cleavers on my way past. They were way bulkier than my swords were and top heavy; hard to swing. But it would have to do. Steel couldn't kill an empousa but it wouldn't tickle. Cries of surprise followed me out the large double doors as I ran out onto the street. The empousai must have broken free of the workers' grips. Passing locals leapt back in surprise, exclaiming first in confusion as I barged through the crowd, and then in fear as they took in my dirty clothes, wild eyes and the two large cleavers with fresh blood still dripping off them clutched in my hands. The crowds ran screaming, dispersing down the streets.

Well, at least now I had a clear area to fight in.

I spun back to face the empousa.

"Oooh, you almost lost us back there!" taunted the one on the left, the one from the bakery line, "Neat little trick with the workers, but it really didn't achieve much, did it?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed the other one, clearly eager to please its ringleader.

I rolled my eyes at them, taunting them.

"You guys are so boring," I yawned.

I stretched my neck and shoulders and loosened my arms, preparing to fight. This wasn't going to be pretty, but it wasn't the worst odds I'd faced. I studied the empousai in front of me. The one on the left was clearly the boss of the two; taller, stronger. She looked like a classic, popular teenage girl, but I knew that underneath that façade was a monster capable of tearing me apart limb by limb. I couldn't underestimate her little henchwoman either. She was smaller but probably just as skilled and strong. My eyes swept over them, taking it all in. So, when the empousa's eyes darted just above and to the left of my head, I spun, catching the claws that were aimed at the top of my spine with the flat of the cleaver's blade.

'Surprise attack from behind," I drawled, "So cliché!"

The third empousa growled menacingly at me and prowled back a few steps. I twirled, trying to keep all of them in my line of sight as they circled me.

"Come on guys, three to one, really?" I taunted, "I thought you had _some_ dignity."

This time they all growled. I considered my options here. I could fight but that probably wouldn't end well since it was three to one, and the fact that my weapon wouldn't do any damage whereas theirs would maim me. So, maybe not. I could run, but unless I managed to make it back to my room before they caught me it would just end in the same result. Plus, I had lost my head start. Hiding wasn't an option and neither was negotiating so that really only left fighting.

Fighting it was.

It seemed that the empousai had come to the same conclusion that I had. They all launched themselves at me, claws slashing. I dropped to a crouch and raised the cleavers above my head in a defensive position. This was going to be messy. I deflected the first blow and parried the second, swinging in return. My blade hit something solid and an answering scream told me that it had hit its mark; the henchwoman. I tugged my arm but the blade was stuck. Dammit. These cleavers were not very helpful. Putting my full weight behind it I gritted my teeth and pulled. With a sickening squelch the blade popped free and I spun anticipating another attack. But I had wasted too much time freeing my stupid blade. The third empousa was slicing at my midriff with her honed claws. I twisted frantically but her claws raked along my rib cage, drawing blood. I hissed between my teeth, pressing a hand to my wound. Um, _ow_. I tried to keep all the empousa in my line of sight. This wasn't exactly going as I had planned. I spun again, this time attacking, just scratching one of their thighs. Having to dart back to avoid disembowelment, I realised this might not end well for me. If I had my swords, this would be a completely different matter, and if it weren't for Ms Ives I would have them. Two of the empousai drove forward at the same time and I deflected their strikes one after the other. But the blades were too heavy. I lost my balance and was shoved from behind, dropping the cleavers. I went sprawling into the trash in the alley outside the butcher. No, definitely not to plan. Propping myself up on an elbow, I watched the approaching empousa warily. The lead empousa laughed.

"Looks like you've lost little demigod," she sneered, crouching so that she was level with me. She pouted, "You really didn't put up much of a fight, did you?"

I spat at her, landing it directly on the middle of her face. Nailed it. If I was going out, I was going out in style. She scoffed and stood up.

"Pathetic," she leered, wiping the spit off her face, "Gabby, finish her off."

"Yes, Susan," the one I assumed was Gabby, replied.

Gabby, the empousa that had attacked me from behind, stalked towards me grinning sinisterly. I tried to rise, clutching my side, but I fell back down onto my knees, my head spinning. I had lost a fair bit of blood. The empousa chuckled. No, no, no, absolutely no way I was going to get beaten like this. I had one last shot, but I didn't like it. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. This time I could, _would,_ control it. This time I would make it do what I said. I was about to release my devastating power on those flaming donkeys, when a blood-curdling scream pierced my meditative state.

...

I snapped my eyes open and scanned my surroundings. The second empousa, the one that I had stabbed earlier, was gone. The one called Susan swore in Greek and pointed a claw at me.

"What did you do," she snarled, "Where did she go?"

I shrugged. I truly didn't know. One second she was there and the next, poof, gone. Susan narrowed her eyes and pointed first to Gabby, then to the street behind them. Gabby nodded and ran out, to look for the other empousa I assumed.

"You..." Susan started but she was interrupted by another scream from behind her. Gabby stumbled towards us, blood pouring freely from the deep gash in her chest. Suddenly, she was covered in shadows, and when they cleared all that was left was dust. She was dead, sent back to the Underworld. Susan bellowed and ran to her fallen comrade.

"Idiot," I muttered, my survival instincts kicking in as I wormed my way into the trash around me, covering myself. Clearly something, or someone, was after them. She was going to get killed just like the others. My suspicion was confirmed by the scream that came from around the corner. Bloody hell, whoever they were, they were quick. Almost completely covered in trash, I turned some more, quickly drawing in my breath as I rolled over my wound. Gods, well wasn't this embarrassing. The great Celestia Lightwood, rolling in the trash, stalked by some invisible predator. Really great for my image. Speaking of predator, the shadows were back again. They swirled, manifesting into a shape that was vaguely human in front of the butcher, next to where Gabby had died. My eyes widened. It was a human. A boy. He was dressed in black, head to toe. I held my breath as his eyes scanned right over where I was hidden. The boy rolled his eyes, muttered something beneath his breath and turned back to the cobbles. I softly released my breath, grinning in relief. The boy shook his head, his long black hair falling in his eyes. I wrinkled my nose. Gods, had he never heard of a haircut? Then I noticed something that wiped all thoughts from my head. A flash of silver around his neck. No. No bloody way. That necklace! He was a demigod too! I needed to talk to him, asap. I rose from the trash. The boy glanced at me, alarmed, and disappeared in a streak of what looked like smoke. Oh, right, teleporting. Whoops. I ran into the clearing, searching for the shadows that signified his approach. And…there! Damn, he was close! I back-pedalled, trying to put more space between me and the shadows, but they passed right by me. I followed in quick pursuit, a hand pressed against my side to try to ease the bleeding. I was going to need some kind of medical attention soon. The shadows materialised into the boy again and he leaned against the alley wall, panting heavily, eyes closed, face pale.

"Hey!" I yelled, "Oi, demigod!"

The boy opened his eyes and glared at me.

"Um, okay," I thought with a frown, taking a step back, "That's…probably not a good response?"

Faster than my eye could follow he whipped one of his many daggers from his sheath along his leg.

"Woah! Hey, wait!"

The boy narrowed his eyes and threw the dagger. All that kept me alive was years of training and my reflexes. I spun and the dagger caught me on the left shoulder instead of through my heart. Dropping to one knee I abandoned my ribs in favour of my shoulder. The boy turned and ran down the alley. My blood quickly stained my hands in red. Gods damn it. I tried to stand and almost succeeded, but stumbled and groaned, falling to my knees. I was losing too much blood. The boy stopped running. I swore under my breath. He was coming to finish me off. I quickly scooted myself backwards, until my back hit the alley wall. Using the wall to push myself into a standing position, I was up. My vision blurred, my head thumped and suddenly I was falling away from the wall. I outstretched my arms in panic, hoping to cushion my landing. But, there was no need, because someone caught me.

...

The boy lowered me gently to the cobbles. I tried to crawl away but he grabbed me by the elbow.

"Hey, hey," he exclaimed, his voice soft, "You're bleeding, let me help you. I'm a medic."

"Yeah right," I scoffed, rising on my elbow, despite the boy's protests, "You are _kind of_ the one who threw the knife at me, remember?"

The boy rubbed a hand over his face.

"Look," he said tiredly, "I didn't mean to, okay? It was an accident. I didn't realise you were a demigod. I thought that you were one of the empousai I was hunting."

"Whatever," I grumbled, but I tucked away that bit of information. He was hunting the empousai?

"I'm fine. I don't need your help; I've dealt with worse."

I tried to get up, but failed miserably, slumping back into the boy's arms.

"Clearly," he muttered, "Come on."

He slid his arms under my body and lifted me.

"Hey, put me down!" I protested, squirming. The boy grunted, but instead of putting me down, he simply readjusted his grip and started walking.

"Idiot," I exclaimed, "Put me down!"

"No," the boy replied, "You are bleeding out and you need medical attention before you die. I have medical supplies. I can help."

I shook my head. This guy would not take no for an answer. Fine. I feigned fainting, dropping my arm. While the boy was readjusting his grip, I spun, twisting myself out of his grasp and onto the cobbles, snatching one of the many knives from his side as I fell. I slammed onto my bad shoulder and gasped in pain, my vision flashing black. Rolling into a crouch, knife in hand, I looked up to find the boy staring at me wearily.

"Really?" he questioned.

I just glared at him.

"Honestly you probably just made your wound worse." the boy said incredulously, shaking his head. "Will you just let me help you?"

I tilted my head.

"No."

I half stumbled, half crawled my way to the alley wall, pausing to overcome my dizzy spells along the way. When I was fully standing, I turned to see the boy watching me.

"Bye," I said sarcastically, waving my hand to emphasise my point. I turned and, leaning on the wall, walked back down the alley, toward the butcher. I needed to cauterise my wounds, or do something else to stop the bleeding from my shoulder and ribs. I heard footsteps behind me.

"You are going to die without my help!" the boy insisted.

"Gods, he has a point," the little voice in the back of my head commented, "What exactly are you going to do, huh? You have no medical supplies at all and nowhere to go, unless you want to walk, bleeding, to the other side of town. And here is someone offering you help and you refuse.

"It could be a trap!" I argued back, "I don't know him, or where the hell we're going, or if he can even help."

"Well the situation honestly couldn't get any worse, could it," the voice responded.

It had a point.

"Can you really help," I questioned, pivoting to face him.

"Yes," the boy answered firmly, looking me in the eye.

I sighed internally.

"Fine, let's go I…"

The world spun and the last thing I saw before my vision faded was the boy in black rushing forward to catch me.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	2. 2: Jack

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-2-

Jack

* * *

Well, this day was turning out just great wasn't it? I readjusted my grip on the unconscious girl, hands slick with the blood oozing from the wound in her shoulder.

The wound I had caused.

I needed to get her someplace where I could give her a proper medical examination. I was way too exhausted to heal her right here. Shadow-travelling took a lot out of you. But where could I go? I had only come to this dismal town to hunt down those empousai, so I had absolutely no idea where anything was. Let alone where I could take a bleeding girl without someone calling the cops. I could dump her at the hospital, but that would then raise a lot of awkward questions that I really wasn't in the mood for answering. Plus, I was pretty sure all she needed was some ambrosia and rest. I walked down another alley, checking around the corner to make sure no one was there. I really had no idea where I was going. As I walked I noticed something. The streets around the butcher were deserted, when they should have been full of mortals going about their daily business. Odd. I readjusted my grip again, the girl's head leaning on my shoulder. For someone her height, she was pretty light. I continued walking, still thinking of where I could take her.

No, not there. There's too public. Where even was that?

It was hopeless. The only way I knew how to navigate this town was from the rooftops, but that clearly wasn't an option with a bleeding girl in my arms. I sighed heavily. I couldn't even just shadow-travel into a thicket of trees or something. I was worn out.

I trudged on. Where could I go? The nearest safe place that I knew was more than five hours away on foot and with a girl in his arms, that wasn't likely to happen. Plus, that place was only meant to be a _very_ last resort. I could find somewhere else. Lost in my thoughts, I turned another corner without looking, and ran straight into a policeman's back.

...

I was keenly aware of the blood on my arms and staining the girl's clothes as the policemen all turned to look at me. My eyes widened and I backpedalled quickly around the corner I had just walked around, pressing my back to the wall in the faint hopes they hadn't seen me. Why were the cops here? Had somebody seen me and called them? I couldn't remember seeing anyone. I turned and started to run as best as I could. Too late. They'd seen me.

"Stop. Stop right now, young man!" One of the cops shouted behind me.

I didn't stop.

More voices joined the first and when I looked back, I saw they were all armed. I glanced quickly down at the girl in my arms and wondered if she was really worth the trouble. Standing straight, I turned so that I faced the cops.

"Put your hands in the air," one of them yelled, gesturing with his gun.

Were they serious? I looked pointedly at the girl in my arms and then back at the cops, raising an eyebrow. The cops glanced at each other and then back to me.

"Put the girl down in front of you," another one yelled, "and then back up a few steps, hands in the air."

I rolled my eyes. These idiots were hopeless. Clearly the girl was bleeding. There really wasn't time for negotiations. So, I complied. I put the girl down gently on the street and then backed up a few paces with my hands raised. Two of the cops ran forward to the girl, crouching down next to her. They examined her, completely ignoring me. They then brought out a photo and compared it to her face. I frowned. Why were they identifying her? She wasn't dead. Yet. But she would be if I couldn't help her. One of the cops signalled to the others and two more ran over.

"This the one?" one of them asked as they crouched down too.

The other cops nodded.

"Um, hi," I interrupted, "What's going on?"

The cops all looked up at me, at the blood staining my clothes and arms.

"Kid," one of them started, making me bristle, "Do you know this girl?"

I shook my head. Technically not a lie. I didn't even know her name.

"Well then," said the same cop, who I had now dubbed 'Egghead' because of his receding hairline, "I suggest you go home and wash that blood off of you. We'll take it from here."

"Where are you taking her? She's hurt." I asked, surprising myself. I barely knew her, why did I care about her?

Egghead frowned.

"To the station, she's under arrest," he said, kneeling back down next to her.

What in Hades?

"What?" I asked, "What did she do?"

Egghead sighed heavily.

"Kid." Again with calling me kid. "She killed three girls with cleavers she stole from the butcher."

I frowned down at the girl. They must have meant the empousai. Cleavers. Real subtle, but props for extravagance. Egghead mistook my scolding frown for confusion, so he stood back up and grabbed my shoulders.

"It's okay," he said slowly and I tried not to roll my eyes, "It's not your fault. You are a good person for trying to help her."

I resisted the urge to laugh as Egghead turned me by the shoulders and gave me a little shove. I started walking away. Great. Now it wasn't just a rescue mission. It was a jailbreak.

This should be fun.

...

I darted around the corner as soon as I was out of the cops' sight. Heading for the metal ladder on the side of the building - the one that led directly to the roof - I climbed quickly, hardly touching the rungs in my haste. When I reached the top, I peeked over the edge. The cops were lifting the girl onto a stretcher that they had pulled out of somewhere and were starting to walk down the alley. I darted along the roof and jumped to the next, landing lightly in a crouch. I continued like this for several minutes, following the policemen from a couple yards behind as they traversed through the town streets. They had tried, and failed, to bandage the girl's wounds while they were walking, managing to do a really shoddy job of it. The blood was already starting to seep through the bandages.

Amateurs.

About five minutes and a cross of the street later, they entered a building on the other side of the road, nearly losing the girl off the stretcher as they tried to fit her through the door. As a medic, I found it hard to watch; they were undoubtedly making her injury even worse. I slid down the ladder on the side of the building I was on and crept around the corner. The door was closed; they must have gotten the girl inside already, hopefully without injuring her even more. I stood and was just about to cross the street when I realised that I still had the girl's blood all over my shirt and hands. Looking around the corner again, I decided it should be fine; the street was practically deserted. After that brief moment of indecision, I dashed across the street, keeping low and staying in the shadows. I pressed myself against the wall in the alley next to the building the police had entered and surveyed it. There was the front door but that would probably be in clear sight of whoever was inside. Same with the back door. The windows were those annoying rectangle ones that were too small for me to fit through, and I needed to be able to get the girl out too. Letting out a sigh of frustration, I realised I would either have to sneak her out, or take out the cops, neither of which had an easy solution. I walked quickly to the wall of the building, moving around to the back.

There was a vent on the roof that I could try to get in through. I glanced around quickly and then jumped, grabbing onto one of the windowsills and pulling myself up. I balanced for a couple seconds on the small space, coming close to falling. In a quick movement, I launched myself up again, latching onto the gutter. Gravel skittered as I paced over to the vent. Crouching next to it, I examined how it was held on. I chuckled softly. These guys were as hopeless with security as they were with medical procedures. It was only held on by a couple stubby screws. Already deciphering the mechanisms in my head, I reached into my pocket, grabbed my kit and got to work.

It only took me about two minutes to remove all the screws and lower the cover softly to the ground, making almost no noise. I slipped inside, headfirst. Shuffling through the vent, my elbows and knees made soft thumps as I used them to propel myself forward. I reached a split in the vent and paused. Left, or right? I shrugged. Left. Hearing voices up ahead and I stopped to listen to them. I frowned. I couldn't hear them properly and could only catch part of the sentences. Words like; dangerous and delinquent. Could they be talking about the girl? Sure, she looked a bit rough around the edges but she didn't look like one of those really bad kids that would mug you and then steal your car. Not that I was one to talk. I continued forward to where the voices were coming from. There was a vent up ahead that was facing downwards, and it seemed to lead to the room where I could hear the voices. I crawled forward until it was directly in front of my elbows. Peering over the edge into the room below me, I saw there were two men inside, one sitting behind a desk and the other pacing, his face bright red, near the door.

"She's dangerous," the one next to the door practically yelled, "She killed three girls in cold blood, sir. She should be in a cell. Locked away where she can't hurt anyone else."

The cop behind the desk, the one just referred to as 'sir', simply shook his head.

"Do you have a body?" he questioned, leaning forward, "A witness to the murder? Any I.D on the dead girls? Have you even recovered their bodies?"

The cop by the door, who I had now dubbed Tomato due to his heated, flushing cheeks, threw his hands up in the air.

"No!" he yelled, "But we have witnesses say that that girl ran out with cleavers with blood on them, and we haven't seen the girls chasing her since."

'Sir' looked around incredulously, "And?"

Tomato looked flustered.

"Well, there were some screams from that area," he muttered.

Sir gestured at the door.

"And the girl," he said slowly, "Is injured. Maybe, she was the one who screamed. Does that sound plausible, officer?"

Tomato licked his lips.

"Yes sir, but…" he started but he was interrupted by Sir.

"If there is no evidence, officer," he concluded, "Then we have no reason to hold her. Let her go and get her a blooming doctor."

I nearly applauded. This was quite entertaining, watching Tomato and 'Sir' fight. I almost wanted some popcorn.

"We can't get the girl a doctor, sir," Tomato said sadly.

What, why? I closed my eyes, tilting my head back. Please don't be dead, I thought desperately.

"Why not, officer?" Sir asked.

"Sir, she's one of Ms Ives'," Tomato said, shaking his head.

Sir pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair.

Not dead, thank the Gods. But, one of Ms Ives? What did that mean? I shifted, hoping to get a better view. The vent below me creaked and I only had enough time to swear before I dropped into the room with the officers.

...

My luck was just great today. Tomato dragged me into the main room by the scruff of my shirt, my feet trailing behind me. Oh. It just kept getting better. Tomato let go and I dropped to the ground. I coughed and then raised my head.

I stared. A good fifteen cops stared back. At my dishevelled black hair, my bloodstained clothes, my mischievous looking face. This probably didn't look too good from their perspective. And it really wasn't looking good from mine. Egghead stepped forward.

"What are you doing kid?" he asked tiredly, "I thought I told you to go home."

"Who is he?" Someone up the back asked and a couple people echoed his question.

I swallowed. This didn't look like it was going to end well.

"It's alright boys," Egghead said, easing the tension, "He's probably here to check on the girl."

Egghead looked at me.

"Which means," he said, crouching down to my level, "That you didn't tell me the truth, kid. You do know her, don't you?"

"I-I-I know her," I lied, looking up at Egghead, "She's my friend, I didn't know what to do. Is she okay?"

Egghead shook his head.

"There's not much we can do, kid," he said, rubbing a hand over the bottom half of his face, "She's one of Ms Ives'."

I nodded my head sadly, like I knew what in Hades' name _that_ meant.

"Can I see her?" I asked quietly.

Egghead nodded, extending a hand to help me to my feet.

"Sure kiddo," he said clapping me on the back, "She's just through there."

I turned to the door Egghead had pointed at and made myself nod slowly. I walked over, twisted the handle and slipped inside. I cringed once the door was closed. Wow, these cops were really bad at medical procedures. Someone had tried to wrap a bandage around the girl's wound on her shoulder, but it was way too loose and it wasn't making any difference to the pints of blood pouring out. Someone else had even placed a wet towel on her forehead, despite her not having a fever, and there were enough pillows stacked behind her head that she was sitting nearly bolt upright.

I sighed as I untied the bandage and started redressing it again, pulling it tight to limit the blood flow. There really wasn't much more that I could do with the rudimentary supplies that were here. I glanced around the room hoping for an easy way out. One that wouldn't injure the girl anymore. The only way I was getting out was back through the door that I had just came through. I sat on the chair next to the door, staring at the girl whose name I didn't even know. Under the layers of dirt, I could make out lightly tanned cheeks. She looked like she had a hard life. I really didn't have much choice here; either I bluffed my way through all the cops back out there or maybe … I jumped up and looked out the tiny window, having to stand on my toes. I narrowed my eyes. It would be tight, but I could probably make it. Probably. A knock sounded on the door.

"Kid, are you all done?" Egghead asked.

I didn't have much time. I lifted the girl back into my arms, adjusting her so that I could still see out the window. I focussed outside, picturing it in my mind and moved. Shadows twisted and twirled around me and the girl, as I used the shadow world to transport me from inside the small room to outside, in the alley. The shadows dissipated and I leaned against the alley wall, catching my breath, feeling drained. The pressure in my ears released with a sharp pop. I could thank my mum for that handy little trick. A slam and shouts from inside told me that the cops had realised that I was gone, so I ran.

...

I swerved down the streets and alleys, no idea where I was heading, just trying to stay in front of the cops. I let my feet take control, running with my head down. I needed somewhere, anywhere, to heal this girl. She was getting deathly pale in my arms and I could almost feel her life-force ebbing away. My foot caught a loose tile and I stumbled, almost dropping her. I stopped, panting, stitches wracking my side. I couldn't keep this up much longer. I was too tired. There was a place I could go. I knew it, had known it from the start that I could go there, but it was pretty far away, and I had promised myself that I would only go back if it was my last resort. I looked around me, to the bleeding, unconscious girl in his arms. The situation definitely looked desperate enough to me. I sighed through my nose and kicked the alley wall. I was hoping it wouldn't have come to this. But, I turned back around and kept running. It was hours away by foot.

I needed some kind of car.

There was a park nearby. I would have to try my luck there.

Setting the girl down gently in a nearby alley and tightening the bandage again, I searched for a car, any car. Driving wasn't one of my best skills; I was only fifteen, so I didn't technically have a licence yet. But I knew the road there by heart, so I should be alright. As long as I didn't get pulled over. My eyes were drawn to a man down the street, who had just stopped opposite the park. Plucking a hoodie off a random clothesline, I pulled it over my head to hide my bloodstained shirt. I watched carefully, eyeing him as he placed papers on the roof, pulling a laptop bag out of his back seat. He started walking into the park, and I changed my route so that our paths would intercept. I shouldered him heavily, and just as I planned, he fell.

"Sorry, sir. Are you alright?"

I helped him pick up his paper and he thanked me, continuing on his way. He wouldn't be thanking me later when he realised I had taken his keys out of his back pocket. Waiting until he was out of sight, I unlocked his car, sliding into the front seat. Alright. I eased it carefully onto the street, coming to a stop near the entrance of the alley where I had left the girl. Piling her into the back with as much care as I could manage, images of where I was going flowed unchecked through my mind. I tried to shake them away, but I couldn't. Instead, I did as much as I could on the girl's wound, flowing as much of my healing power into her as I could manage. But after all the shadow-travelling I had done, it wasn't much. At least she didn't seem to be in as much pain. Covering her bloody clothes with a jacket left in the man's car, I realised that was pretty much all I could do for now.

So I just started driving.

The house was hidden in the dense forest, back where you couldn't see it unless you knew it was there. When I was younger, I had thought that was so cool. Now I saw the underlying reasons as to why we were this far away from everyone else. Bundling up the girl - jacket and all - into my arms, I started the walk up the driveway, the fresh pine smell making my head spin a little. I was still really weak, and was starting to see faint doubles. Finally, I staggered through the front gate. Memories flooded me and I stumbled back a step and right into the fencepost. This place. I gritted my teeth and walked slowly to the double windows on the side of the house. I crossed my fingers and tapped lightly. I waited a couple of seconds.

 _Come on Zo_ , I thought, _come on, come on!_

The curtains were flung open and Zoe stared at me, eyes wide. I smiled weakly at my little sister and gave a feeble wave. Zoe's gaze went down to the bleeding girl in my arms and her mouth dropped open. I mouthed 'window' at her, and tilted my head to the other side of the house. Zoe nodded and ran off. I breathed a sigh of relief and walked quickly over to the other side of the house. The windows were open when I got there and Zoe was glaring at me. I placed the girl on the windowsill and Zoe grabbed her and, with a bit of a struggle, lowered her onto one of the two beds inside. I heaved myself up and through the window, muscles groaning in protest. I collapsed on the floor as soon as I was inside, my head in my hands. Zoe crouched next to me.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

I looked up at her, sadness welling in my stomach.

"I can't stay," I answered, my words scratching on my dry throat.

Zoe nodded, disappointment evident in her grimace.

"I figured," she said softly. She gestured to the girl on the bed, "Friend of yours?"

I snapped back to the present, standing quickly to go to the girl's side. She had lost a lot of blood and was very pale.

"Zo," I said, ignoring the question and turning back to my sister, "Is my medical stuff still here?"

She nodded and ran out of the room on quiet feet. I watched her go. Zoe had grown up so much since I had last seen her. I shook my head and focussed on the task at hand. I had to help this girl.

...

Zoe came back with my medical equipment and dumped it on the desk to my right.

"Ambrosia and nectar too, if you please," I said, going through my equipment.

Zoe nodded, leaving again and I turned back to the girl. It was lucky I had stopped a lot of the blood in the car. Otherwise this could have been a lot worse. I paused. There was a lot of bleeding around her shoulder, which was to be expected, but there was also a lot of blood on her side. I pulled out a knife and ran a slit up the side of the girl's shirt, peeling it away from her skin. Dammit. One of the empousa must have raked her with its claws. The wound was pretty nasty. I grabbed my knife again and cut another slit so that I could work on her shoulder.

I hoped the girl hadn't been too fond of this shirt.

A tap on my arm. Zoe had returned with the ambrosia and nectar. I muttered my thanks as I placed an ambrosia square in the girl's mouth and helped her to swallow it. The colour returned slightly to her cheeks and I grabbed my disinfectant from the desk. The ambrosia would heal her, but I wanted to make sure the wounds were clean. If anything was stuck in the wound when the ambrosia got to work then it would stay there, and that could lead to a really nasty infection. I gently washed as much of the blood away as I could from her shoulder. I then did the same for her side, getting it as clean as I could. Sitting back, I looked over my work. The ambrosia had already started to slow the bleeding. Stitches would just hinder the ambrosia's process so there really wasn't anything left for me to do except wait, as much as it grated at my nerves to do so.

"Will she be okay?" Zoe asked, a thin hand on my shoulder.

I nodded. The girl should be fine and I would check with her when she woke up to see if she felt any other pain.

"How long until she's mobile again?" Zoe asked hesitantly. I knew why she was asking, but it still hurt that I couldn't stay long.

"She should wake up in about twelve hours," I answered, "We'll try to be gone by tonight."

Zoe nodded and left the room, leaving me alone with the sleeping girl.

I stood and went over to the bed. The girl was sleeping heavily now thanks to the ambrosia. I laid a hand on the girl's forehead. No fever. I looked closer at the girl's face. She looked thin, too thin for it to just be genetic, definitely a little malnourished. Her eyes were sunken and had large, dark rings underneath them. I pursed my lips, feeling regret for the girl. Her hair was limp, another sign of malnutrition. She looked like she had been through a lot. I couldn't heal that. All I could do was give her some food and make sure her wounds were healed properly. Sometimes I really hated being a healer. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't heal everything.

...

I was woken from my restless sleep by a noise. I sat up, looking around. It was the girl. She was twisting in the bed, muttering and sweating. Nightmare, I figured. I got up and walked towards her and placed my hand on her arm. She was shaking, a little too violently to be normal. What had happened to this girl to scare her that bad? I sighed and pulled over a chair. I would have to stay up and make sure that she didn't hurt herself. She started muttering again. Her hand flew to her chest. I jumped up, thinking that she was having chest pains, but instead saw that she was clutching something in her hand. A necklace. I pried open her tensed fingers and frowned. A Camp Half-Blood necklace, nearly identical to the one that I was wearing around my own neck. The only difference were the beads. I looked at her. How? I had never seen her at camp. Shaking my head, I sat back down. I would have to wait until she woke up.

I needed some answers.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	3. 3: Ash

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-3-

Ash

* * *

Sweat trickled into my eyes as I fought, making them sting. My swords glittered in the sun as I blocked and parried again and again. My breathing was shallow and once the adrenaline wore off, I knew that I would be exhausted.

But, for now, I was invincible.

I attacked, pressing home my advantage. Block that sword, step in, thrust, repeat. My opponent fell under my onslaught and I fell with him, landing on his chest, pressing the blade of my sword to his throat.

"I win. Again." I announced smugly, removing my sword from my friend's neck. Damien smiled.

"What's that, the hundredth time you've beaten me?" he asked, laughing.

"Something like that," I agreed, standing up and wiping the sweat from my face with the sleeve of my gear. Damien always worked me hard when we fought, which was good, but I could have gone without the sweatiness. He rose to his feet, accepting my offered hand. He wiped his face too, starting the walk back to the compound, with me following on his left.

"What have you got next?" he asked, moving fluently through the between-classes crowd.

"Stealth," I replied, rolling my eyes, even though he couldn't see it, "You?"

"Archery."

I shook my head. I never could understand Damien's obsession with long-ranged weapons, like the bow. He was one of the only students who took that class. And don't get me wrong, he was good at it, but I just didn't get it. The bow had him out of the action, out of the _bloodbath_ of a battle. It was crazy! Not that he couldn't use other weapons. But I just didn't understand his reasoning. Damien and I reached the split in the hallway where we would both go our separate ways.

"See you back in the training rooms after lunch," I called over my shoulder.

"Yeah, see you later," Damien called back.

...

"The rules of stealth," Mr Romanazzi began, writing on the blackboard as he spoke to the class, "Can anyone name them?"

I kept my hand down, closely examining the scratches on my desk. I knew the answer. I was pretty sure everyone in the room knew the answer, but no one wanted to draw attention to themselves. Everyone knew that was a sure way to become a target.

"Anyone?" Mr Romanazzi questioned angrily, his thick eyebrows knotting. He looked around the classroom. Everyone avoided his eye.

"Um...let's see," Mr Romanazzi begun wearily, looking for a student to pick on, "Ash. Do you know?"

All eyes swiveled to me. He just _had_ to pick me. I looked up from my desk and smiled wanly at Mr Romanazzi.

"Taking advantage of lighting, sir?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Correct," Mr Romanazzi said, turning and writing it on the board, "Anyone else?"

The class was silent, more than a few glaring frostily in my direction. Mr Romanazzi sighed and sat down behind his desk facing the class.

"Light, sound, direction," he said slowly, "Ring any bells?"

The class made various mumbling noises but I could tell Mr Romanazzi wasn't satisfied. He pursed his lips, looking around the class.

"Right!" He exclaimed loudly, making half the class jump, "Stealth test, five minutes."

He leaned over his desk, grin sadistic.

"You guys better start running," he said softly, nodding his head wisely, "If you don't make it before lunch..."

The class scrambled out the door, me in their midst.

...

I sprinted down the empty halls, looking for a place to hide myself. Everyone hated the surprise stealth tests. It was like a really intense, high-stakes game of hide and seek. We had usually about five minutes to hide or disguise themselves and then Mr Romanazzi would set a goal, a place we had to get to before lunch. Every student had to get there without being seen by anyone; even other students or teachers were allowed to dob us in. If we didn't get there in time, or if Mr Romanazzi spotted us... I shook that thought from my head and kept running. The 'game' was supposed to help us practise our stealthiness and how to avoid detection in a dangerous environment, but I was pretty sure Mr Romanazzi just really enjoyed punishing those who didn't make it in time or got caught. I ran on, keeping an eye out for others from my class. Life here was brutal, and no one would hesitate to take me out so that they would stand a better chance. I had especially made myself a target by answering Mr Romanazzi's question back in class. No one liked a show off here. I rounded a corner and collided straight into Jamie, a boy from my class.

Just perfect.

We both fell to the pavement and quickly jumped back up, eyeing each other warily. My elbow smarted a touch, but I ignored it, focussing on Jamie. Neither of us wanted a fight, but neither wanted to show weakness in front of the other. Jamie made the first move, lowering his head and charging for my stomach like a footy player. I took advantage of his momentum, hooking my arm around his neck as he passed, jumping onto his back. I tightened my grip and spun sideways, taking Jamie to the ground with me. We landed heavily and I forced him down lower, his hands now clawing feebly at his throat as I cut of his oxygen supply. Jamie slumped to the ground, unconscious. I stood slowly, flexing my arm. Then I kept running.

...

I had absolutely no idea where to go. Seven years here and I couldn't think of a single possible place. Where could I hide until the checkpoint was announced? There was nowhere that wasn't already taken. I had already nearly run into three other trainees from my class, thankfully avoiding another fight. There wasn't much time left. I should have been disguising myself somehow or figuring out my entrance plan already. I dropped into a crouch as a loud crack startled me. It was the loudspeaker.

"Hello dear students and teachers," drawled the sinister voice of Mr Romanazzi, "As you may be aware, my stealth class is currently participating in a stealth physical examination."

Here he paused and sighed heavily.

"Please," he said imploringly, "If you see any students from my class before lunch...feel free to punish them accordingly. West courtyard."

Another crack as Mr Romanazzi turned the loudspeaker off. I gulped. I had no idea how much longer I had and no clue how to get to the courtyard without being seen. I chewed my lip. The west courtyard. That was on the other side of the Institute too. Everyone would be making their way there now. How was I supposed to disguise myself in time? I paced, biting my lip with renewed vigour. I really had no other option. If this was going to work, I needed help. I turned and ran in the opposite direction to the west courtyard.

I ran towards the archery range.

...

Through the leaves of the bush I could see Damien firing at a target, the classes' back to me. I crawled backward until I was fully concealed in the bush. How the hell was I supposed to get his attention without anyone else seeing me? I crawled forward again, trying to catch a better look. I needed some kind of signal so that Damien would know it was me and would come over, but without everyone else coming too. Racking my brain for something to use didn't work. What could I do? What was something that only Damien would recognise? A bird call was cliqué and was fairly obvious. And there was no way I could stand up and go 'hey, Damo, over here' without attracting unwanted attention. I concluded that I would just have to create a diversion and hope that Damien came.

Foolproof.

I shuffled back through the bush until I was lying deep in the forest behind. Suddenly, inspiration struck. Figuring it out as I went, I grabbed one of the many sticks littering the forest floor and stood, taking cover behind one of the trees. I peeked around the trunk, assessing how far away Damien was. Pretty far. I stepped out from behind the tree and threw the stick with all my strength.

It missed by quite a lot.

I really wasn't even very close.

I ducked back down into the bushes. I needed to get closer somehow. Ever so carefully, I crawled forward until I was almost directly behind where Damien was shooting. I grabbed another stick, which thankfully there were armfuls of, and rose from the bushes. It may be easier to hit Damien now, but that also meant that it was also easier to hit any of the people standing next to him. And I was extremely conscious of my time ticking away. I aimed carefully and then threw the stick directly for the back of Damien's head. And that is exactly where it would have gone, if a stray breeze hadn't sent it hurtling straight at the girl next to him. I swore and dived into the undergrowth as the girl turned, rubbing the back of her head.

Stupid bloody stick.

The girl started striding towards the forest when Damien called out to her. She turned and started yelling angrily at him and I felt herself get mad at the girl even though I didn't know what she was saying. No one spoke to Damien like that. But Damien simply laughed at her and hefted his bow onto his shoulder. He called out something to his mentor and jogged past the girl, saying something to her as he passed that had her stomping back to her target. I felt giddy with relief. My plan had worked. He strode into the forest.

"Alright Ash, I know you're here, come out," he said softly once he was out of the sight of the other archers.

I stood up right next to him, making him jump. Wary of being seen, I grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the forest.

"Okay," I said, coming to a stop, "I need your help."

"What do you need?" Damien asked instantly. At that moment, I marvelled at having a friend like him, who would help me out instantly, no questions asked. Even though he could get in massive trouble for doing it.

"I need an explosion," I replied, "A big one. Very distracting."

Damien nodded.

"You want it near the West Courtyard where the checkpoint is, but far enough away that you can sneak through, right," he questioned, thinking out loud, "Something big and showy but not actually harmful?"

I nodded. Damien gave a mischievous smile.

"Yeah, I know just the thing," he said slowly, already planning the whole thing out, I imagined.

"Ok," I said, shaking Damien to get back his attention, "I need the distraction as soon as possible. How much longer do I have?"

Damien pulled his watch out of his gear and his face fell.

"We have eight minutes," he said quickly, shoving the watch back into his pocket, "Run, I'll take care of the distraction."

I nodded, trusting that Damien knew what was at stake. I crashed through the undergrowth, no longer caring about how much noise I made. The forest continued around the entire perimeter of the institute so I followed it as far as I could. The front of the dorms had just come into sight when the trees were too close together and thickly intertwined for me to make my way through. I stumbled into the yards outside the dorms and blinked at the sunlight. Quickly glancing around to make sure no one had seen me, I then kept running toward the West Courtyard. I didn't stop, hardly slowing enough to get around the corners. I didn't pause when I heard a scream from the archery range, nor when someone tried to stop me by stepping out into my path. I needed to get there before Damien set of the explosion. Rounding one last corner, I dropped to a crouch in the shadows of a wall. The West Courtyard.

I was here.

Mr Romanazzi was standing in the center of the courtyard seemingly enable to decide whether to glare at his watch or the cluster of students lounging around the seats. They must have been the ones who had made it through already. This made things more complicated. Not only would I have to make sure that Mr Romanazzi didn't see me, but now everyone else who had made it through. I sat deeper into the shadows of the wall. Now I just had to wait for Damien.

...

Little did I know, Damien was nearly ready. It had been really quite simple to get away from archery. All it had taken was a well-aimed ricochet off the target and for Damien to volunteer to take Candice to the infirmary. Once he had dropped her off he had waited until the nurse was gone and crept out the door. He had then made his way to the science labs. Unlike me, he didn't sneak around, sticking to the shadows and avoiding people he came across. Damien instead acted normal, saying hello to people he knew as he passed and even taking it as far as whistling a little tune as he went. Damien kept this act up until he reached the labs and then continued on his way past them. He walked out of the building and then, making sure he wasn't being watched, ducked around the side in silence.

The bricks made great hand and foot holds as Damien climbed up to the small windows that lined the top of the lab wall. He reached the window but moved further, reaching the roof and pulling himself up onto the gutter. He hooked his legs over the edge of the gutter, letting the rest of his body fall until he was level with the window. Pulling his tools out his mouth, Damien twisted to face the window. It was a simple procedure, really. All he had to do was open the window and slip inside. The fact that he was hanging upside down a couple feet off the ground didn't bother him as he deftly picked the old padlock on the window. He pushed the window open, quickly to reduce the noise made by the hinges. If he'd had a bit more preparation, he would have brought some oil, but time was of the essence here. Damien pulled himself back onto the gutter and used it as a handle to swing himself through the window. He landed in a crouch with only a soft thump alerting the world to his presence. Making quick work of the storeroom lock, he dashed in and grabbed what he needed. He laid the chemicals out on the front counter and got to work. He didn't have much time.

He made several of what looked like molotov cocktails, but instead of fire, they would send out an explosion of multi-coloured, nonlethal sparks. He also had little dung bombs that would send out a horrible odour that would make anyone within its range pass out, a couple handfuls of homemade firecracker and some flashbangs. He was ready. Damien delicately placed all the explosives in the large sack that he had brought with him and climbed back out the window, shutting and locking it again behind him. He jumped down, landing quietly, and pulled on his balaclava. He did not want to get caught.

...

The first explosion caught me by surprise. A huge flurry of pink and green sparks spiralled into the air, followed by shrieks and yells from that area. I grinned. Damien had begun the distraction. I stood and peeked around the corner. Everyone in the courtyard had raised their heads but no one was really panicking that much. They probably just assumed that someone had messed up a formula in the science labs. It happened occasionally. The next explosion of sparks, closer this time, had them all a little confused. The third explosion, this time a flashbang, was only on the other side of the building, and this had them all on their feet.

Except Mr Romanazzi. He simply looked bored.

Another flashbang, this time on the other side. Now Mr Romanazzi looked worried. He called the students in the courtyard over and began gesturing to the where the explosions had happened. Everyone shook their heads. Damien threw a dung bomb into the classroom next to the courtyard and the whole class stumbled out into the courtyard, holding their noses and coughing. A teacher I didn't recognise stormed over to Mr Romanazzi and began shouting at him and Mr Romanazzi began shouting back. They were so engrossed in their argument that they didn't notice when the first student fainted. Or the second. By the time they realised something was wrong nearly half of the class that had been dung-bombed was out cold, more than a few of them probably going to wake up with nasty head injuries. The teacher ran to one of the passed-out students and checked their pulse. Seeing that they were alive the teacher jumped back up and started yelling at Mr Romanazzi again, prodding him in the chest. Mr Romanazzi yelled back. A sporadic explosion of pink sparks interrupted their argument as everyone either ran away or ducked for cover. Suddenly, the teacher from the other class fainted too and Mr Romanazzi had to catch him.

It was total chaos.

It was _perfect_.

As Damien set off a firecracker nearby, Mr Romanazzi gestured at all the students to get into a nearby classroom. I seized my chance and slipped out of the shadows, following the class as they ran inside. I forced herself to look confused and scared. Everyone was covering their heads and looking around suspiciously. Finally, all the students were inside. Mr Romanazzi stormed in after us, his face tomato red.

 _"Who did this!"_ he yelled, spit flying out of his mouth and spraying on the unfortunate students in front of him, _"Which one of you slimy, absolutely useless maggots organised this?"_

The class was silent. I looked at those around me. I noticed with relief that no one was looking at me with suspicion. By the looks of it, I had made it just in time. Mr Romanazzi's eyes scoured the room. He frowned. He looked again and frowned even harder. He counted slowly, and then counted again, shaking his head.

"Four," he spat.

Everyone glanced around, confused. Four what? Mr Romanazzi counted one last time.

 _"Four!"_ he bellowed, gesturing at the gathered students, " _Four_ of you snuck in during the explosions."

Oh. I forced my face into a bored and annoyed expression. Three others had snuck in too. A small part of me felt ecstatic about that. Damien and I had helped three other people avoid Mr Romanazzi's punishments with our distraction. But mostly, I was worried. Would anyone notice one of the four was me? Now the other students were gazing around too, trying to figure out who had snuck in. I joined in. After a couple of intense minutes of examining faces, all eyes swivelled back to Mr Romanazzi. His mouth opened to speak but he was interrupted by the loud ringing that signified the start of our lunch break. I breathed a sigh relief, sagging into my chair. I had made it. Mr Romanazzi glared at everyone and then started taking record of who had made it. Three students were nowhere to be seen. The class stood and started to make their way towards the door, no one talking. I copied them, giving off an air of malice and aggression as I walked. Suddenly, a figure burst through the door. Whoever it was pushed through the crowd.

"I'm here," he yelled, out of breath, "I made it Mr Romanazzi."

The person pushed past me and I saw who it was; Jamie. His face was flushed and I could see ugly red marks along his neck where my hands had been. Disgust churned in my stomach. I had caused those marks on his neck. I had choked him with my bare hands. I looked away. It wasn't my fault. He would've done the same to me. It _wasn't_ my fault.

Jamie made it to the front of the students and stood in front of Mr Romanazzi.

"I'm here," Jamie panted, "I made it. Right?"

Mr Romanazzi smiled horribly. Jamie's face fell.

"No," he muttered stepping back, "No, no I made it."

Mr Romanazzi smiled even wider than I thought possible, his face stretching grotesquely. All the colour drained from Jamie's face. He turned to run but Mr Romanazzi was faster, catching the collar of his gear and pulling him back. Jamie clutched desperately at those around him but no one would dare help him and evoke Mr Romanazzi's wrath. Jamie's hand caught the sleeve of my gear. His eyes widened in a plea of help. I felt horrible. I was responsible for him not making it. But, I forced my eyes to go hard and brushed him off. Weakness was not accepted here. Mr Romanazzi gave Jamie's collar another hard tug and he stumbled back.

"Well," snarled Mr Romanazzi, shaking Jamie, "How many lashes?"

The class was silent. No one wanted to sentence Jamie. If you were cruel to someone when they got lashes, chances were they would want payback when you got yours. My back crawled at the thought of the whip cutting deep lines through my skin. I had been very careful since coming here and was unmarked so far. This made me a target and I was sure that when I did get lashes, I would get many. Having no lashes make me special, and anyone that stood out here was a threat. Mr Romanazzi looked around the room incredulously. There was an evil light in his eyes as he stared down at Jamie.

"Well," he said slowly with hardly concealed joy in his eyes, "I guess I get to choose then!"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Let's see," he mused, "Five?"

Jamie raised his head, looking slightly relieved. Five wasn't too bad. Five was about the average lashing and someone Jamie's size could probably take that many without passing out. Mr Romanazzi laughed cruelly.

"No," he drawled, leaning down to look into Jamie's eyes, "It would be five if you were just late, but you … you had the nerve to ask if you were _on time_?"

He laughed again, throwing back his head.

"That gets you ten lashes! Ten!"

There were some gasps around the room. I closed my eyes. I had never heard of anyone who had stayed conscious for the full ten. Most passed out around seven. Jamie was done for. He seemed to understand that too. He slumped in Mr Romanazzi's grip, loosening his tightly clenched fists. Mr Romanazzi then went on to explain the rules that everyone already knew. An additional lash for each shout or scream. Another one for each tear, or five if it's just continual crying. If you pass out the person behind the whip could continue until they felt satisfied that the punishment was complete. Standard single whip used. But I wasn't listening that closely. I had the same three words running through my head, taking up all my thoughts.

All my fault. _All my fault._

If I hadn't knocked Jamie out, if I had just turned and ran, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Mr Romanazzi sauntered through the small crowd, students parting to let him pass. Jamie, with Mr Romanazzi's hand still clamped firmly around his collar, trailed desolately behind. I looked away.

"Class dismissed," Mr Romanazzi called over his shoulder and everyone started moving slowly to the exits, murmuring under breaths to each other. I caught parts of conversations and all of them seemed to be about either Jamie or, more importantly, the mysterious prankster running around the school. Everyone was wondering who they were and where they were now. I was wondering too, and so I set off purposely to find Damien.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	4. 4: Celestia

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-4-

Celestia

* * *

I was slowly clawing my way back into consciousness, head gradually clearing and the inky blackness on the inside of my eyelids beginning to withdraw. I went to open my eyes but then remembered what had happened.

The empousai. The mysterious dark boy. My shoulder.

Quickly recovering, I forced my eyes closed and tried to return my breathing pattern to normal. Although my limbs appeared to go limp, I was making small motions underneath the blankets, just simple movements like wiggling my fingers and toes.

"I know you're awake."

Well bloody hell, whoever this boy was, he was pretty observant. I still took my time opening my eyes, feigning drowsiness while I silently worked feeling back into my limbs. Just in case I had to move quickly. I also did a survey of my injuries, twisting and stretching my side where the empousa had sliced me. No pain there. I raised a hand to my shoulder.

"That's healed too."

I glanced up at the voice. It was the demigod from the alley, leaning against the wall and regarding me, his ice-blue eyes partially hidden underneath his scowl. I glared at him and checked anyway, prodding and poking, doing a self-analysis of my shoulder's functionality. The boy was right; it was completely healed. Finally, I turned back to him.

"How did you learn to heal like that?" I questioned, abandoning the sluggish act.

"You're welcome," the boy replied, avoiding my question and taking a seat on the bed across from me, "Any residual pain in your shoulder?"

I shook my head and the boy nodded like I had confirmed his suspicions.

"Good," he muttered more to himself then to me, "I didn't think there would be any, but it's a standard question I ask."

"So, you heal people often?" I replied, sitting up carefully.

"Yeah," he replied, "You could say that. Look, let's drop the act, okay?"

"Whatever do you mean, oh mysterious kidnapper of mine?"

The boy leaned forward.

"You clearly know I'm a demigod," he started, raising an eyebrow, "You are one too, otherwise the ambrosia would have killed you."

Well lucky he had taken that assumption for me while I was unconscious.

"And," he continued, pointing at my neck, "Judging by the necklace that you had clutched in your hand while you were sleeping, you know something about my camp. Right?"

"So, I was right," I exhaled, "You live at Camp Half-Blood."

The boy's expression was hard to read.

"Yeah, I do," he said stiffly, "How do you know about it?"

I licked my lips. How much could I trust this guy? I hardly knew him. And he had stabbed me. Although, he had then healed me. I was getting some seriously mixed signals here.

No, I eventually decided, this was too personal. It wasn't his concern. The boy noticed my silence and narrowed his eyes at me.

"Look," he said with an outburst of indignation, "This is my camp we're talking about, okay? If I can't trust you, then I'm not telling you anything about it or letting you go anywhere near it."

Who did this guy think he was? He couldn't tell me what to do, and I didn't owe him any information.

"It's none of your business," I ground out.

"It is my business," the boy growled back, eyes flashing, "My home. My family. My friends. If you are going to put them in danger then why the hell would I let you near them?"

"How dare…" I started but the boy interrupted.

"Honestly, why should I trust you, huh?" He tone was bordering on rude. "I don't know anything about you. You're just some random demigod I picked up on the street. And did you forget that I saved _your life_? You should be thanking me!"

"You're the one that stabbed me!"

"Well I could have left you to die there, couldn't have I? But I didn't. I picked you up and ran, I literally broke you out of prison, stole a car, drove here, at great personal risk mind you, and I'm starting to think you're not even going to say thank you."

I glared frostily at him. Prison? I hadn't been arrested...had I? And what was this about a stolen car? The boy seemed to have realised what he had said and he quickly closed his mouth. I raised my eyebrows at him and he shrugged, smiling apologetically as he tried to figure out what to say.

"I ran into a _little_ trouble when I was getting you here."

A _little_ trouble. Right. His body language said different. I continued staring at him, clearly unnerving him. He ran a hand through his messy hair. Had he slept on it or what?

"Look it wasn't that bad, honestly. There was a little misunderstanding about the empousai you killed. The police thought that you murdered them, that they were just some normal girls you knew. Well, at first they did, but there wasn't much evidence so they were gonna let you go, but then your wounds were really bad and they wouldn't call a doctor so…"

"So, what?"

"I broke you out, stole a car, and illegally drove all the way here. I think we're probably both on the run from the law now," he finished guiltily.

Unbelievable. Unbe-bloody-lievable! First I had been stabbed, and now I was wanted by the police? I sighed heavily, pressing my fingers to the crease between my eyes. This guy was more trouble than he was worth. First, he stabs me, then he gets me arrested and _then_ he makes it even worse by making me a bloody fugitive. I raised my gaze to the ceiling. What was I supposed to do now? When I looked back at the boy he was staring inquisitively at me.

"What?" I spat.

"Who is Ms Ives?" He asked casually, his curiosity barely concealed.

My spine stiffened on reflex.

"Where did you hear that name?" I asked softly, my voice coated with barely contained anger.

"The cops." He stated matter-of-factly, clearly not picking up on my 'I'm going to kill you if you don't shut up' vibes, "They said that you were 'one of hers' and that's why they couldn't call a doctor for you. So, who is she?"

"I don't…"

"Cut the bull crap," the boy interrupted, "you clearly do."

I glared furiously at him. I didn't have to tell him scat. Now the boy seemed to pick up on my vibe. He glared back.

"Are you ser-...at least show me a bit of trust!" he exclaimed, "I saved your goddamn life. And if you want my help with getting to Camp Half-Blood, which I assume you do, then give me a reason to trust you. I don't even _know_ you. I don't know where you live, your background or _even what your name is_. So, stop acting so goddamn shady already."

He was starting to grate on my nerves.

"You would want to stop talking now," I said coolly.

"Why?" the boy questioned, "Realising I'm right?"

I ignored him and instead looked around the room. I saw his smirk falter. He wanted to pry? Fine. Two could play that game. I started with examining the boy. From what I had already gathered, he knew this place. Had memories here. Not so happy ones, by his defensive attitude. I had noticed his gaze drifting a couple times when we were talking, looking at the furniture, the walls. Completely normal behaviour, if it weren't for the way his eyes lingered, almost as if hungry for details. His room then. But long since left behind him.

I started on the rest of the room. The beds. Beds plural, so two people stayed in this room. Relatives, statistically speaking. Two different bed covers; one with bright yellow hues, and the other with dark, more subdued colours.

Alright.

I turned my gaze to the two desks against the far wall, and the drawings surrounding them. The drawings were done by a child, I reasoned, or someone with absolutely zero talent for drawing. Two different children, with different drawing styles, even noticeable from a young age. So, definitely two people in this room.

The desks. Both made of plain oak wood, littered with army soldiers, crayons and discarded paper. Children then. Most likely older than five because there was some evidence of writing, but looking at the handwriting quality, likely not older than ten.

Trophy case. Four shelves, equally spaced along its length. The bottom two were stuffed full of trophies and medals, whereas the top two were nearly empty. Interesting. I picked up two names; Jack and Zack Herondale. Two boys. Brothers, most likely.

Closet. Split down the middle into two clear, and very different, sections. The left was filled with darker clothes; blacks and greys, whereas the right was filled with brighter colours like yellow and orange. Again with that colour scheme. What did it symbolise? The sizes of the clothes in the closet were the same on both sides, so both the boys must be around the same height and weight, and possibly even the same age.

And finally, the layer of dust coating everything in the room. I had everything I needed. I started piecing it together.

The boy in front of me was either Jack or Zack. This was his room that he shared with his brother (Jack or Zack respectively). Considering the obvious and numerous attempts to create two different themes, therefore express individuality, and the fact that all the clothes were the same size, I concluded that Jack and Zack were probably twins, although I couldn't be sure if they were identical. I also concluded that Jack was older, as most people unconsciously decorate left to right or top to bottom, and Jack's name appeared first all around the room. Assuming this theme was continued, which was likely, that meant that Jack had the darker colour scheme. I looked at the boy again, who was still staring at me funny. Black hair, black shirt, dark jeans.

Jack.

That begged the question; where was Zack? Twins generally got along quite well, and the drawings on the wall showed great collaboration. So, why wasn't he here? In fact, why hadn't he, or Jack, been here in what seemed to be years? The dust levels were quite high in the usual areas; on top of cupboards, around objects that weren't generally moved, but was also surprisingly high around areas of frequent activity; the beds, the desk, near the door. No one had been constantly using this room for a while. So why not? A thought-provoking question.

They didn't move houses; their clothes were still here. And the room was in too good condition for it to have been abandoned. So that meant someone still lived here. Who? A family member? That would explain why everything was left the way it was, but then why wouldn't Jack and Zack have revisited? Unless they were forced out? But why? It couldn't have been danger, because someone still lived here. Family dispute? Possibly. I did another quick glance around the room, hoping to catch something that I had missed.

I did. The trophies. They were clean, bordering on polished. So someone had been in this room. Not Jack, he was too tall, and there was no dust disturbed at his height. Someone shorter. Another, younger, sibling? Maybe a girl, judging by some of the drawings left on the desk.

I scowled. I should have picked that up straight away. I was getting rusty.

So, a younger sister. The level of dust would indicate an average sized twelve-year-old girl, and considering that Jack was just above average height, I assumed the girl was too. So, Jack and Zack had left in a hurry, but their little sister had stayed. Jack and Zack had run away? But they clearly had a strong connection with their little sister, because she visited their room occasionally and cleaned their trophies. Were they forced to leave? Just them, not their sister? I slowed my thinking and went back over what I had seen. Clothes in cupboard. Sister still here. Jack and Zack not here. Family members still here.

Family members. _Duh._

Definitely family dispute. Jack and Zack sent away, the little sister left behind. Sent away on pretty bad terms too if they haven't come back in years. Maybe seven or eight years judging by the dust levels. I was satisfied. I had what I needed.

"Well Jack," I began, relishing the surprised look on his face as I called him by his name, "My turn."

"Your name is Jack. This is your room that you shared with your twin brother Zack. You are older, but Zack's more talented."

Trophy case. Zack had heaps of trophies, Jack had hardly any.

"You and Zack left this place in a hurry about seven years ago, leaving all your belongings and your younger sister behind," I continued, "Its possible you ran away, but more likely you were forced to leave, because your sister didn't come with you and, considering how often she comes into your room, you were pretty close. So, you wouldn't have willingly left her behind, would you? You left, with Zack, about seven years ago, and you haven't returned in that time. That implies that there is something keeping you from returning, or more likely, someone."

A pause.

"Considering that you are both boys, I would go ahead and assume it was your father that cast you out. Must have done something pretty horrible to be kicked out the house aged eight. What did you do, wreck one of daddy's toys? Oh, wait, sorry, would you like me stop? Too personal?"

Jack's face was pale. He looked devastated. I felt my satisfaction sour a little. Maybe it was too personal. Wouldn't have been the first time I had taken it too far.

"How could you possibly know all that?" he asked softly, shaking his head.

I gave a small smile, feeling like I had to give some kind of apology.

"I have my ways," I shrugged. Smooth.

An awkward silence followed as Jack looked at me incredulously. It was interrupted as a girl paced purposefully into the room, her dark hair like cape behind her.

"Good to see you're up," she said to me with an air of authority. She turned to Jack.

"We need to go?" Jack asked before she could get a word out.

The girl nodded silently, her expression filled with sorrow. I looked between the two. This must be the little sister. Jack cleared his throat and stood, opening his arms wide. The girl practically leapt into them, burying her face into his chest. Jack rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes, holding her tight. I awkwardly looked away, feeling like I was interrupting. They broke apart, both looking like they had wanted their goodbye hug to last just a little longer. Jack ruffled her hair, and then walked over to me.

"Let's go," he said extending a hand.

I ignored it and stood up by myself, only slightly woozy from the ambrosia. Jack nodded and paced over to the window. He opened it and climbed out. I followed close behind, but first I walked over to Jack's sister. She had silent tears running down her face. I extended a hand and she looked at me warily.

"Thanks for the help," I said, "I'm sorry we had to leave so soon."

She shook my hand.

"Not your fault," she sniffled, "Look after him, okay?"

I frowned in surprise. She noticed and gave a small smile.

"He's not as tough as he looks," she explained, "I'm Zoe, by the way."

"Celestia," I replied. Zoe tilted her head at the window.

"You'd better get going," she said letting go of my hand.

I nodded. I walked over to the window and started climbing out. Jack was waiting for me down on the ground. He reached out to help me and I shrugged him off. As I reached the grass and starting walking, I turned and raised a hand to Zoe. She raised her hand in return.

Jack never looked back.

...

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"We?" Jack replied, scrunching up his eyebrows, "There is no 'we'. Your little Sherlock Holmes thing in there didn't do anything. I still don't trust you. We're even."

What was wrong with this guy? What exactly had I done to tick him off?

"Actually, I need your help," I replied angrily, "I need you to take me to Camp Half-Blood."

"No."

"Yes," I countered, "You are the only person I know who can."

"Look," Jack replied, exasperated, "I healed you, okay. I get it. And somehow you know every detail of my life. But, that does not make us friends. I'm not taking you there."

I stopped, fuming. Here was my one chance to finally get to Camp Half-Blood after all these years, and this...this _pigheaded imbecile_ , wouldn't take me. He didn't get it. I _needed_ to go there. Jack stopped too, turning back to face me.

"I don't know you," he said slowly, "And I don't trust you. We are even. I am not taking you there and that's all I'm saying on the matter."

He turned back and started walking again. Something inside me snapped.

"Fine," I ground out, "Leave. I can take care of myself, thanks."

Jack frowned, clearly surprised, as I turned on my heel and walked away.

"Do you even know where you're going?" He called out after me.

I gave him the finger over my shoulder. Screw him. I'd find the camp by myself. I navigated the streets easily, two years of experience making it childsplay. Screw Jack. Who did he think he was? The camp wasn't his. I kept walking, muttering under my breath the entire time. Only when I was about a block away from my destination did I realise what trouble I would be walking into. I had left this morning with Ms Ives money, disappeared all day, and now here I was.

No pastries, no money and hours past curfew.

My anger gave way to fear and dread. I was so screwed. I considered trying to find the pastries, at least, but then my fear and dread gave way to numbness. Why bother?

I should leave, a small part of me whispered. Then spoke. Then yelled. Until my whole body was screaming, screaming out against this horrid little town, Ms Ives and her stupid rules and manipulations and telling me I should leave. _I should leave_. I should just walk straight in, tell Ms Ives where she could shove it, grab my stuff and leave. The rational side of me argued, asking where I would go. But, the pure primal rage was overpowering. Soon the rational side had joined the campaign, showing me how to leave, where I could stay. I found myself walking, no, _storming_ , towards the iron gates, the only thought in my head, leave, leave, _leave_. I furiously brushed hair out of my eye and my hand came back wet. I was crying.

Good. Let her see what she had done to me.

I kicked open the gates, the hinges screaming, sounding like an orchestra of dying cats. The door was flung open from the inside. Ms Ives stepped out. She was saying something but I didn't listen, I simply brushed past her. She squawked after me but I kept ignoring her. I ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time. She followed. She grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me towards her. I turned and pushed her, sending her enlarged form tumbling down the stairs. I laughed, a high, maniacal sound that squeaked out of my throat. I continued up to the bedrooms. Other girls that had come out of their rooms, eager to see what the fuss was, shrank back as I reached the landing. I didn't care. I walked to my room and yanked open the door.

Bare walls, bare floors. My padded cell.

I strode over to the bed and tore open the mattress. My beautiful swords tumbled out, landing with a clang on the stone floor. I picked them up gingerly, marvelling in their perfect balance, honed edge and elegance, like I always do. But, there would be time for that later. Plenty of time. I paced over to the desk and grabbed my satchel that someone had taken up to my room for me. I ripped open the cupboard and shoved my clothes and small collection of belongings into it.

All of them. I was never coming back.

I swung the satchel over my shoulder and grabbed my swords, placing them in their sheaths. Stomping on the stairs. Ms Ives must have recovered from her fall.

I walked quickly to the window and slid it open, its well-oiled hinges not making a single squeak. One leg over the sill, then the other. Now I was sitting on the edge of the window, overlooking the well-kept garden. I pushed off and landed in a roll, practice making the movements come with ease. I started walking purposely through garden. I considered kicking through the plants as a bit of pay-back, but decided against it. Ms Ives would just make the other girls fix it, and my problem was not with them. They were alright. Speaking of which… I turned back to the window. Faces stared back at me through the shutters.

"If you can hear me," I yelled, "Leave while you can. Ms Ives is not the only option, okay? Anywhere, literally _anywhere_ would be better than that-."

I called Ms Ives some names I am not going to repeat. But there was no reaction. The girls kept staring at me, not even a single hint of understanding lighting up their faces. Gods dammit. Why couldn't I get through to them that Ms Ives was horrid. No matter. I was leaving either way. I continued on my way, Ms Ives screams following me. Something along the lines of; don't ever come back, you have nowhere to go, blah, blah, blah. I turned and screamed back at her, not words, just rage.

She shut up. And I kept walking.

...

What the hell had I just done? I walked quickly, almost running in my haste to get away. Tears streamed down my face; not tears of sadness or regret, but vast, unchecked anger. But I couldn't have cared less; I had a plan. I followed the streets in reverse of how I had come. I was going to go to Camp Half-Blood. That Jack boy was going to help me. No matter what it took. I continued my pacing, my unsheathed swords now swinging at my sides. No one stopped me. I estimated I was about halfway back to Jack's house when a shadow dropped down from a nearby rooftop and landed in front of me, rolling as it hit the street. Jack rose from his crouch and tweaked an eyebrow at me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he enquired.

I continued walking straight towards him, swords still drawn. He seemed to pick up my mood, dropping the casual demeanor and lowering a hand to where his knives were kept at his side.

I didn't stop.

I swung my right blade hard at his head and he ducked, clearly surprised. I spun, swinging with my left, and he rose, meeting my blade with a jarring clang. He jumped quickly to his feet and drew another knife so that he too had one in each hand. Good. I wanted a fight. I attacked again, striking with first my right, then my left and then my right again, in one fluid motion. Jack narrowly blocked them, my onslaught pushing him backwards. He then countered, stabbing forward. I stepped inside his strike and elbowed him hard in his sternum. He doubled, wheezing. I grabbed his shoulders and shoved him into a nearby wall. I held one of my swords to his throat, my other arm keeping him firmly pinned. Jack stared at me in shock and bewilderment.

"You," I declared softly, "Will take me to Camp Half-Blood. Capeesh?"

Jack glowered at me, his chin held high. I ran the edge of my blade lightly along his throat and he flinched as a couple drops of blood fled down his neck.

"Capeesh?" I growled.

Jack gave me a black look, but nodded slowly as I pressed my blade firmer against his skin. I reached down and relieved him of his blades. I pushed him into the wall and stepped back, keeping the point of my sword steadily aimed at his jugular. Jack stared icily at me. I tilted my head toward the empty street in front of us.

"Let's go."

"It's the middle of the night," Jack spat out.

He had a point but I didn't reply. He looked at me for a little longer and I could almost see the gears in his head ticking as he thought over the situation he was in. Then he dramatically rolled his eyes.

"Come on," he said, pushing away my blade and starting to walk, "I know somewhere we can hideout tonight."

I was instantly suspicious, of course. But, considering I didn't have much choice, I followed him.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	5. 5: Jack

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-5-

Jack

* * *

I led the girl holding a sword to my spine down the deserted streets, the incrediousity of the situation nearly making me laugh. Instead, I tried to make some small talk.

"So what's your name?" I asked, turning my head to look at my detainer, "'Cause I know that you know mine."

Silence from my surly, blonde captor.

"I bet it's something weird," I replied, turning back and talking to myself now, "Like, Jack's a pretty normal name, so I don't really have a problem telling people. But you clearly do."

"Keep walking," came a growl from behind me.

I was slowly getting to her.

"So, how weird is it?" I continued, "Like place it on a scale of Caitlin with a 'K' to some ancient aztecy thing."

When I turned again, the girl was glaring heavily at me.

"I don't think I trust you enough to tell you that," she dead-panned, mocking my earlier words.

I felt anger bubble in my stomach. What I had said was validated. I didn't know this girl, and I was putting the camp on the line by taking her there. I mean, she was clearly a little hot-headed. She was holding a sword to my spine. So why shouldn't I get defensive? But, I couldn't exactly voice my thoughts right now, given my current situation.

"Well," I started instead, "You should trust me. You basically know my life story."

"Not happening, Jack."

I took that as a challenge, and for the next five minutes I needled her with questions, pausing for a couple seconds when she pressed the point of her blade firmer against my back. Finally, she relented with a sigh.

"If you really must know, my name is Celestia. Celestia Lightwood."

A surprisingly elegant name. Really rolled off the tongue.

"See, that wasn't so hard! Well, as you already know, I'm Jack Herondale," I replied, "Now that formal introductions have been made, can I go?"

Another sharp prick in the small of my back, followed by a small trickle of sweat and blood that leaked down from the spot. I took it as a no. So I decided to keep prying.

"So, orphanage, huh?" I asked nonchalantly.

The footsteps behind me abruptly stopped. I turned.

"How the fu-," she started, but I interrupted her.

"I may have followed you a little," I shrugged, "No biggie, right?"

Fire blazed in Celestia's eyes as she glared at me.

Actual, literal fire.

And, sword back at my throat. I spun around again and kept walking.

"So," I risked, "Wanna talk about it?"

No response.

"Right," I sighed.

This was going to be a long walk.

...

We made it to my temporary hideout after about half an hour of silent walking, theatrically waving my hand at my huddle of sheets. I had slapped it together after Miss Celestia Grumpy-Pants over here had grumped off earlier, so it was still pretty basic. The grumpy-pants in question stormed right past me, chucking her bag on the ground near the woodpile as she went. She twirled her swords, and they shrunk to small earrings that fitted delicately into her ears. I gaped.

Freaking. Wicked.

She started grabbing wood for the fire and I joined her. Once we had a pretty good pile I set it going with my lighter. Still ignoring me, Celestia sat down heavily on one of the logs I had thoughtfully added next to the fire. I sat down too, across from her. The silence stretched as neither of us said anything, Celestia gazing into the fire.

"How's the staring into the fire going?" I asked, sick of the lack of noise.

"Trying to figure out what I did wrong to get me stuck with you as my only hope of getting to camp."

"Mood."

"How is that even a mood?" Celestia grumbled, "You're not relying on me for anything. I'm not your only hope."

I raised my hands in surrender.

"Well geez, just trying to make conversation."

"So, what else do you know about me?" Celestia asked after a moment, drawing her eyes from the fire and meeting mine. They were a piercing grey blue and unsettled me a touch in their intensity. I considered not telling her everything, but what would be the point? Plus, she was pretty scary.

"Well," I started, a _very_ good start, "You live...lived…at that place. What was it called? Ms Jives Horrible Place?"

Not even a chuckle. Tough crowd.

"Ms Ives Orphanage for Wayward Girls," Celestia dead-panned, clearly used to saying that name like it would mean something to whoever heard it. Not to me it didn't, although now I understood why the policemen had called her 'one of Ms Ives'.

"Alright then," I continued, "And you just left. Quite loudly, might I add."

A nod.

"Can I ask why?"

Celestia raised her gaze to mine.

"I need to go to Camp Half-Blood," she said slowly, and a large part of me sighed. Just when I thought we were making some progress and bam, back to the old 'I have to get to Camp Half-Blood' speel. I still held some hope that I could talk her out of going. I didn't want to go back. Sure, I could try to just tell her where it is, but with the new security measures, she wouldn't be let in without me. If I was crueler, I would have just let her go and be rejected, but I didn't have the heart.

"Why?" I asked instead, "What exactly is so important that you have to go there?"

She didn't reply. Was I seriously going to have to nudge every little detail out of her?

Apparently so, as a heavy silence set in.

"So," I started, needing to say something, "What happened to your parent?"

Smooth, Jack, ask the orphan what happened to her parents. Celestia shrugged.

"They were both demigods," she murmured, "So parents, plural. They died when I was eight."

Surprise contorted my features. Celestia noticed and raised her eyebrows, an unspoken question written on her face.

"Are you fifteen, Celestia?" I asked slowly.

A frown.

"Yes. How did you know that?"

I swallowed drily.

"I know how they died. Possibly."

Celestia's posture straightened and she stared imploringly at me. I licked my lips.

"How much do you know about demigod history. More recent, that is?"

A small shake of her head.

"I know a lot about the Gods and monsters," Celestia established, "But, no, nothing about recent demigod history. Why?"

Letting loose a sigh, I shook my head. Time for a history lesson.

...

"Ten years ago, a boy arrived at Camp Half-Blood. He was a formidable demigod, a child of the Big Three, and he had a powerful destiny. His name was Percy."

"As in Perseus from ancient Greek times?" Celestia asked hesitantly.

"No," I answered, "His name was Percy Jackson. Percy went on a heap of quests, saved us all a bunch of times. But one of the most known, and celebrated, things Percy did was defeat Gaia."

"Gaia," Celestia exclaimed, surprise lighting up her features, "Like, _The Earth_ , Gaia."

I nodded.

"Percy wasn't alone. There were seven demigods chosen for this quest; Percy, son of Poseidon; Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena; Jason Grace, son of Jupiter; Piper Mclean, daughter of Aphrodite; Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto; Frank Zhang, son of Mars and Leo Valdez; son of Hephaestus. And they-"

"-Wait, wait, wait. Some of those are Roman gods," Celestia interrupted.

"Well, yeah. Camp Jupiter is our closest ally."

"Camp Jupiter?"

"The Roman camp. It's in San Francisco."

Shock froze Celestia's face for a couple seconds, before she recovered herself.

"San Francisco? But...is it hidden?"

"Yeah, it's pretty well guarded. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. Continue your story."

"Okay then. Well, those seven demigods defeated Gaia. And for five years we thought that everything; the wars, the violence, the deaths, was over."

I met Celestia's eyes.

"It wasn't."

"After Gaia was defeated, the remaining demigods hunted down the rest of the monsters that fought for her. Well, they thought they did. But, they missed some. We still don't know how they got away; most people reckon they hid in the Labyrinth. The point is, they did. The monsters that were left; mostly cyclops, cynocephali, basilisks, rogue centaurs, empousai, griffons and lamiae, waited in the Labyrinth, regaining their strength. Five years they waited under our noses, slowly healing and bringing more followers to join their ranks. But, we didn't notice. Life in Camp Half-Blood continued. Our parents looked after us, other people had families. Life was good. But on the five year anniversary of Lycaon's attack, out of nowhere, the monsters striked. If was just the monsters, we might have been okay. But, the first lycanthrope, Lycaon, had joined them too, bringing with him legions of wolves. And at the helm of their attack was the Titan, Iapetus. We were overwhelmed. A lot...a lot of people died."

I paused. Celestia's face was solemn, all trace of sarcasm gone.

"And you think my parents…" she questioned hesitantly.

I didn't know how to respond. Celestia nodded slowly.

"I'm not sure though," I added quickly, "What happened?"

Celestia's eyes sharpened and she tensed up, like she did any time her past was mentioned.

"It's fine," I said, before she could say anything, "It doesn't matter."

"No," she replied, sighing heavily, "It's okay. You gave me information. I owe you some in return. Maybe it will help me understand what happened."

She settled down into the log, which was pretty hard to do, and rubbed her face.

"It was my birthday," she started softly, "My eighth birthday. My mum and my dad and I, we were celebrating, you know, opening gifts and stuff. But someone called and when mum and dad came back, they told me that something had come up and they had to go. They never told me what. They took me down to our bunker underneath the house, and left me there with my presents and enough food to last an army for years. I was worried at first, but they told me for every hour they were gone, I was allowed to open a present, so I ended up being pretty excited about the whole thing."

The smile that had been growing on her face suddenly dropped.

"But I got through all my presents, and they hadn't come back," she continued, "Someone came by after about a week, said they were friends of my parents. Told me they were dead. I lived with them until I was thirteen and then I ran away. Just couldn't do it anymore. I've been moving from orphanage to orphanage ever since. Ms Ives was one of the only orphanages in the area that I could still go to."

My features were slack and I could tell I was staring, but I didn't know how to stop. That was pretty messed up. She turned to me.

"So, what's your story?" she asked flatly.

I raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes in return.

"Come on," she said, "I told you mine."

True. I cleared my throat.

"Um," I started, "Well, my dad died in the battle I was talking about. We...we weren't actually supposed to be there, Zack and I were only eight at the time, but we had begged dad to go to the camp. Mum, she wouldn't go to Camp Half-Blood, ever, and she didn't want us to go. But we begged and begged until dad took us. Mum stayed behind with Zoe who was too little to come. We were played in the Big House when we heard a scream, followed by another, then more. Dad grabbed his bow, told us to stay put and ran outside."

"Zack and I, we were seriously freaking out. The sounds of battle were everywhere. I wanted to hide but Zack said that we'd be safer with dad. It seemed like the right thing to do, you know? Because he could protect us. So, um, we ran outside, right into the center of it all."

An involuntary shiver ran down my spine.

"It was chaos. The monsters were slaughtering everyone; demigods, dryads, little kids. Zack and I ran through it, screaming for our dad. He was over in the strawberry fields, fighting with an empousa. We ran towards him and he heard us. He killed the empousa and turned. He looked so surprised and so … scared, I guess. But, um, there was another empousa behind him and, uh,"

My voice caught in my throat.

"Chiron grabbed us and hid us in the Big House," I continued after clearing my throat, "We stayed there until it was all over."

I met Celestia's eyes, expecting to see pity. But instead I saw understanding. I realised she had lost a father too. More than that, she lost her mother.

"And after?" she asked hesitantly.

I froze, unwanted memories flooding back. Celestia shrugged.

"I get if it's too personal," she reassured me, "There's some things I haven't told you either."

I nodded gratefully.

Celestia pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and gazed into the fire. I found myself watching her. Her careful movements, but hidden aggression. The way she tapped her fingers on her knees. It was intriguing. She looked up and I glanced away. Great, stare creepily at someone, and then get caught. Smooth.

"What?" she asked.

"Godly parents," I explained, thankful for the quick excuse that came to mind, "Trying to figure out yours."

She smirked.

"Try me," she told me, "Ask your questions, go ahead."

Alright then.

"Can you fly?" I asked.

Celestia snorted.

"I wish."

"Hold your breath underwater for more than three minutes?"

"Yeah, no."

"Talk to the dead?"

"Nope."

Good. Not one of the Big Three.

"What's the square root of 9409?

"97."

I paused. Blonde-ish hair, ringlets, dark blue nearing on steel eyes.

"Athena?" I asked.

A nod and a smile. I settled back into the log, satisfied.

"So, one of your parents is a child of Athena?"

"Yep."

"Do you like wine?"

"As much as the next girl."

"What about music, poetry or healing?"

"Not really my area."

"Like war?"

That stopped her.

"I'm not a descendant of Aries," she said firmly.

I shrugged.

"Ok then, what about beauty? You could be descendant from Aphrodite."

That got a chuckle and lightened the mood a bit.

"No, not Aphrodite," Celestia answered.

"Tinkering and crafting?"

"Not my strong suit."

"Stealing stuff?"

"Call it a hobby."

"Sleep a lot?"

"Yes, but that has nothing to do with my godly heritage."

I stopped. I'd run out of Gods.

"I don't know," I confessed, looking at Celestia for the answer. She smirked.

"Hephaestus," she explained, "My mother was a daughter of Hephaestus."

"But I asked…"

"You didn't ask the right questions," Celestia interrupted, "Crafting and tinkering isn't all there is to Hephaestus kids."

Well, there you go.

"So, is it my turn to guess you?" She continued.

I spread my arms out. Sure, why not?"

"Let's get the easy over and done with," she started, "Hades?"

"Yeah," I said, mildly surprised she had picked that up, "How'd you know?"

"What you mean aside from the black scheme, sarcasm and shadow-travelling? Just a hunch."

I couldn't help but to laugh a little. She had a point.

"Alright that's mum," I confided, "What about dad?"

I could almost see the wheels turning in Celestia's head.

"Apollo?" she asked.

"Bloody hell," I exclaimed, "How could you possibly get that?"

"Zack," Celestia replied, shrugging, "You guys are twins, so same parents, but he had a different colour scheme in your room; yellow. So, I made an educated guess."

I gaped at her. That was pretty brilliant. My awkward staring was broken by Celestia's stomach rumbling.

"You want some food?" I asked.

She shook her head. I frowned.

"When did you last eat?" I prodded.

"Not important," she replied sharply, "What's important is; will you take me to Camp Half-Blood."

No, what was important was eating at least three solid meals a day. Scanning over Celestia's slim frame, I concluded that she was only just reaching that marker.

"Food first," I told her, standing up.

She glared at me, but made no objection.

I rummaged through my dwindling food supply, pulling out some bread, biscuits and apples. I walked back over to the fire and handed half of what I'd grabbed to Celestia. She received it reluctantly. Taking a bite of my apple, I watched as Celestia picked at her bread, pulling off tiny crumbs and eyeing me warily.

"It's not poisoned," I said through a mouthful, "Go on, eat."

She looked back down at the food piled in her lap. Selecting a small biscuit, she began to eat. At first she started slowly, glancing at me occasionally, but once it seemed she had clarified that it wasn't poisoned, and I wasn't going to steal it back, she starting wolfing it down, hardly pausing for breaths, let alone to swallow. By the time I was through with my apple, she had finished two pieces of bread, an apple and five biscuits. I watched in amazement as she started her third piece of bread. She really must have been hungry. She swallowed heavily and then looked at me.

"Will you take me?" she asked.

I nodded, aware that somewhere in my subconscious I had already decided ages ago that I would. Celestia's whole face lit up and she smiled, the first honest smile I'd seen on her face since I'd met her.

"We'll leave tomorrow," I told her, "Give you a chance to say your goodbyes."

She nodded, clearing understanding my underlying message; we weren't coming back.

We settled down for the night, Celestia curled up in one of my travel blankets, me in the other. We slept on the ground on either sides of the diminishing fire. I was used to the rough ground and sharp rocks, and I wondered how Celestia was faring, but heard no complaints. Soon night had bled into morning and we were getting ready to leave. I packed quickly, shoving my supplies into my travel pack. I had awoken that morning to the rising sun, but had found Celestia already awake and active. I wondered if she had slept at all. Everything successfully packed, I swung the pack over my shoulders, and raised a hand to Celestia, who was over near the forest. She jogged over.

"Where to?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"Your choice," I replied, "You're the one who's leaving."

That seemed to stump her and she stood for a couple seconds, thinking. Eventually she raised her head.

"There's only one spot I want to go," she replied, "But it's on the other side of town."

"Fine by me," I said, hefting the bag higher onto my shoulders, "Let's get going."

We set off, Celestia taking the lead. We walked at a brisk pace, the streets barren around us. We were up before the rest of the town was even out of bed. We took the back alleys that both of us were familiar with, hoping to avoid another confrontation with the police.

...

Gods, Celestia really wasn't kidding about it being on the other side of town. The sun's rays were starting to peek over the rooftops, so we picked up the pace. As we jogged down the streets, we kept an eye out for the early risers starting to mingle.

"How much further?" I gasped.

"A couple more blocks," Celestia replied, not even slightly out of breath.

I lowered my head, sucked in a large breath and kept running.

After a few more blurred minutes, Celestia came to a halt, and I skidded to a stop behind her, nearly knocking her over. We had stopped outside a little store.

"Here," Celestia said, pointing to the door, "This is the place."

It didn't look like much from the front. Small windows, dust coating every surface I could see and it looked a _little_ dilapidated. But the way Celestia was staring, it clearly meant a lot to her.

"Do you want me to come in?" I asked hesitantly, aware that this might be a tad personal.

Celestia shrugged. She squared her shoulders and stepped forward. She gently pulled the door open, the small bell tingling. She held the door open and gestured with her head for me to enter. I walked in, my footsteps slow. Once inside I raised an eyebrow. A library. Old, like I had assumed, and coated in dust. I coughed. She was definitely a child of Athena. Celestia stepped inside behind me and close the door softly. Her bag swung as she strode forward. An elderly lady came out of a back room at the sound of her footsteps.

"Celestia," she called happily, "So glad you're here! Your book has just come in!"

I couldn't see Celestia's face, but I could tell from her tightened posture that that news wasn't good. The lady seemed to notice too and she frowned.

"Is everything alright, Celestia," she asked slowly, glancing at me, "Are you okay?"

Celestia looked at me, and then back to the lady.

"Yeah," she replied reassuringly, "Nothing's wrong. I just came to say goodbye."

Another suspicious glance at me.

"Glenda, it's fine," Celestia said, noticing the lady's gaze, "He's helping me. This is my cousin, Jack. I'm going to stay with him and find out a bit more about my parents."

Cousins? Technically true, in a weird, demigod way.

Glenda's eyes didn't soften, and she continued to watch me under a scrutinising glare. If anything, her glare hardened.

"Why hasn't he shown himself before," she muttered to Celestia, though I could clearly hear her, "I thought you had no family left."

"It doesn't matter," Celestia replied firmly, "All that matters is that he's here now."

I couldn't help but smile a little at her. I could already tell she was extremely stubborn. Apparently, Glenda knew this too, because she just sighed, and gave a grim smile.

"Bill!" she called out behind her, "Come out here, would'ya!"

An old man stumbled out of the doorway.

"What, woman?" he exclaimed, "Where's the fire?"

"Celestia's leaving town," Glenda replied, her discontent evident in her voice, "Come say goodbye."

Bill's face fell.

"'Tia," he asked tenderly, "Where are you going?"

"My cousin Jack is helping my learn a bit more about my parents," Celestia explained, gesturing at me, "I'm going with him."

"And where to?" Bill queried, turning to me.

"Long Island," I replied.

Bill and Glenda exchanged a look.

"And where will you be staying?" Glenda asked.

"My parents house," I answered, feeling like I was being interrogated.

They both looked at Celestia.

"Are you sure, dear?" Bill asked gently, "This is definitely what you want to do?"

"I'm sure," Celestia replied.

Glenda walked forward and enveloped Celestia in a tight hug. They broke apart, and Bill stepped forward, doing the same. I tried not to look too uncomfortable. Celestia pulled a laminated card out of her pocket. Glenda accepted it gingerly.

"You're sure?" she asked, eyeing the card.

"I'm not coming back," Celestia replied, a hint of sadness in her voice. She starting walking back to me.

"But, your book!" Glenda replied, in a last ditch effort, "'Lord of Shadows' just came in!"

I saw to my surprise regret and something alike grief flit across Celestia's features. But then, as quickly as it came, it disappeared, her expression hardening.

"Keep it," she called over her shoulder.

She kept walking, grabbing my arm and dragging me along as she went. We left back out the front door, the bell's ringing the only sound in the silence. Celestia continued down the street, still with a firm grasp on my arm.

"Hey," I said as gently as I could manage, pulling my arm back, "You okay?"

"Fine," she said stiffly, coming to a stop, and looking at me, "How we getting to Camp Half-Blood."

Ok then, straight to business.

"We need a car," I answered, "Or some kind of vehicle, I guess."

"Do you have a license?" Celestia asked.

No. My birthday was still in a couple months. Celestia must have read that on my face, because she rolled her eyes.

"Come on then," she said, turning back around, "We need to find a car to hot-wire."

"What?" I laughed, "Why?"

She turned around, eyes ablaze.

"We need a ride," she said slowly, "I'm getting us a ride."

She continued at her brisk pace. I followed, wondering what in Hades I had just gotten myself into.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	6. 6: Ash

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-6-

Ash

* * *

I couldn't find Damien anywhere. Worry boiled in my stomach and ate away at my insides like acid. I tried to stroll casually, to output an air of malice and confidence, but inside I was trembling. I could barely contain the sprint that was waiting to burst out. Where was he? He hadn't been at the training rooms at the start of lunch, and he always got there before me. I had checked his room, his classrooms, I even took a passing glance into the headmasters receiving hall, but he was not in any of those places. Eventually, I decided to come back to the training room. I practised hard, letting my worry show itself in aggression. It was towards the end of lunch before he came in. I stopped my knife-throwing on one of the wooden practise targets lining the walls and jogged over. As soon as I reached him, he threw a punch. I ducked, anticipating it, and threw one in return. We fought, circling each other warily and then darting in and either striking flesh, or getting our strike deflected. I waited patiently as we fought. This is how we spoke, Damien and I. Friendships were strongly discouraged here, and could be punishable, so whenever we had something to talk about, we fought. In between the punches and the kicks we complained, explained and just chatted. So, I waited for Damien to start.

"Did you get in?" he panted, throwing a punch to my midriff.

I spun to his undefended side, trying a leg-sweep which he easily dodged.

"Yeah," I replied, bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet, "Barely."

Damien nodded and then launched a high kick at my head. I sprang backward, out of his reach.

"Get caught?" I asked, coming back in for another punch.

Damien deflected my punch and shook his head.

"They'll never catch me," he said, each word emphasised by a punch, all of which I blocked.

I couldn't help but smile a bit at his arrogance. They could catch him. All it took was one mistake. But Damien claimed to never make mistakes. And, so far, he was right. We had pulled of a considerable number of pranks and plots since I arrived here, and we hadn't got caught. It might have something to do with Damien being the son of our headmaster. He knew every inch of this place, and had quickly taught me all the best hiding spots and passageways. But, if he ever got caught doing something like that his dad wouldn't care. Not that he ever really cared. Damien stopped, hands on knees, and caught his breath. I did the same.

"You be careful, alright," I told him, "If someone realised…"

He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I know," he replied with a smile, "Big trouble. But, isn't that always the stakes?"

Usually, yes. But we were older now. Nearly old enough for our first assignment. Damien would be twelve in a couple weeks and me a few months later. We had to be careful. The bell rung and we both jumped up, surprised. Already the end of the day. I raised a hand to Damien, as pleasant as most people get here, and raced off to my dorm.

I was one of the last to arrive. The other girls were already in their casual gear, lounging on beds, books or knives in hands. I slipped of my boots, and chucked them on my covers. I dropped to my knees and slid my trunk out from under the bed. Like always, it drew stares. It wasn't that special in appearance; leather material, worn bindings, but they all knew I had got it from our headmaster. A gift, he had said.

No one here got gifts, especially the headmaster.

I undid the hatch and lifted the lid, pulling out my clothes. I stood up and pushed it back under my bed with my foot and dashing to the bathroom. Finding an empty stall, I pulled the door shut behind me and quickly got changed. Gear in arms, I ran back into my dorm. I shoved them back into my trunk and then slumped on the bed, stress leaving my muscles. I was here on time. The last girls were still filing in, panic barely contained on their features. I was glad I was not one of them. I grabbed my book from my bedside table, flicking the dog-eared pages to where my bookmark rested. It was a Stephen King book I had stolen; 'Needful Things'. I didn't feel bad about stealing it. The man who owned it was practically killing it, and I was constantly smoothing down creased corners. I scanned to where I was up to and began reading, letting my anxieties flow away with King's beautiful words. I was enthralled in the plot when I heard everyone began to move. I threw my bookmark in quickly and placed my book on the bedside table. I jumped up and raced to the foot of my bed, and stood with my arms firmly at my sides, feet together and chin up. I could see out of the corner of my eye, everyone else doing the same. We were awaiting inspection. Every afternoon we were 'inspected'; checked over, analysed. It was less so how we looked, and more how we were achieving. If you were below, you got punished. If you were above, you got rewarded, and that made you a target. We all watched the door out of the corner of our eyes, waiting for our inspector today. A crash echoed around the stone room as the door was flung open. We all sucked in a breath between our teeth.

It was Damien's dad. Our headmaster.

He was a large man. Tall and wide-shouldered. He had black hair, like Damien, but blue eyes, different to Damien's deep green which he got from his mother. He was powerful and his entire presence demanded respect. I could feel every girl around me tense. This was nearly unheard of. The headmaster prowled forward, his sharp eyes examining everyone he passed with great detail. I gulped. I was towards the end of the hall. He passed me, glaring into my eyes, searing his discontent on the front of my brain. All moisture fled my mouth. He moved onwards.

"Girls!" he shouted, making most of us flinch, myself included, "How are we going?"

Silence from the room. None of us knew how to respond.

"Lovely," he muttered, rolling his eyes, "And I'm well too, thanks for asking."

He smiled widely at one of the girls he was closest to, who gazed back at him, fear apparent in her eyes. He then raised a hand and waved at one of the men in gear next to the door. The man in question strolled menacingly towards the headmaster, stopping in front of him and handing him a sheet of scroll. The headmaster grabbed it, winked at the man, and then turned to look at all of us.

"This scroll," he said, shaking it in the air while he talked, "has the names of those who are falling behind."

A shiver of fear surged through the dorm. He continued.

"Some of you have one strike. Some two. Some even three."

Here he paused.

"One," he said, deadly quiet, "Has five."

Great. I felt my heart speed up, even though I knew I was fine.

"Maddy!" the headmaster called joyfully, "Maddy. Where are you?"

All heads swivelled to a bed three across from my own. A girl stood there, trembling and pale. The headmaster followed our gazes, and his eyes narrowed. He inclined his head at the girl, and the two men in gear next to the door moved forward. The girl glanced around the room, like she was considering running but then gave up, staring fearfully at the men approaching her. They roughly grabbed an arm each, frog-marching her out the door. The headmaster followed.

"Chow," he called out behind him, closing the door, leaving us in the dorm in an empty silence.

It took awhile for everything to get back into order once the headmaster had left. We had all eventually gotten back into bed; wrapped up in the covers or sitting on top. A couple minutes after Maddy had left, some more people came back and took her covers and belongings, leaving a bland, sterile place where a person once was. It was unnerving, but not new. We lost someone every once and awhile. It was Maddy's own fault. She should have worked harder. I did. When I first came here I didn't know anything. I was pitted against kids who had been here since they could barely walk. I had three strikes within the first month. But then, I had met Damien. He had three too. And we made a pact; we were going to survive here, together. And, we did. We trained together every lunch, helping each other to study under our breaths. We spent all of our spare time working, and while other kids were hunting in the woods, Damien and I were slowing starting to excel. That was four years ago. Now, we were the most dangerous people in the compound, and everyone knew it. I settled back into my covers, my eyes once again glued to the page. Soon, I would get my first assignment. Then, it would begin.

"Lights out!" someone yelled from outside the door.

Everyone flicked off their bedside lamps and the room was plunged into darkness. I lay there under my covers, and ran the events of the day through my head. The close call in stealth class should have been foremost in my mind, but it wasn't. It was the headmaster visiting our rooms. Never, had I heard of him doing that. Never. And, I couldn't think of a single reasonable explanation. I figured I would ask him when I saw him tomorrow. Our meeting was at ten. I turned, huddling my blankets close to my chest. Time to attempt to sleep.

It was the same as every other night. I was thrust into a moment from my past. I watched my eight-year-old self from a third-person view. I was sitting on a dorm bed, but it was only me and the headmaster in the dorm. I looked pale, dead, dismal. I was curled up as tight as I could be, seated in a ball, staring at the ground.

"We'll give you a week to settle in," the headmaster said soothingly, a hand placed reassuringly on my knee, "A week, okay?"

I saw myself nod. The headmaster stood and left. I rolled over and cried myself to sleep.

Fast forward as my surroundings blurred.

Three days have past, I remember. Today's an important day in my memories. The first three days I had spent in bed; not moving, hardly eating, not talking or interacting with the other girls in my dorm. But today, I was required to see the headmaster. I watched myself being led by a woman in sleek black gear through the twisted halls. I was in the same clothes I had been for days, and I could see disdainful glances thrown my way as we walked.

"Chin up," I whispered to myself, knowing full well that nothing would happen. Apparently, these were my exact memories. I could never change the events or outcomes, no matter how hard I tried. We finally reached the large oak doors that led to the headmasters receiving room. Doors, I didn't know at the time, that I would become very familiar with. The lady opened the doors for me and we stepped inside. Past-me took a seat in one of the leather chairs, like always, and I sat across from her, like always. I watched myself as I glanced around the room, my young eyes filled with fear, but also wonder. The room had a very beautiful design, as did the headmaster's office.

"Come in," came a voice to my left and both our heads shot up.

Past-me stood and walking hesitantly to the door. I followed.

"Take a seat," the headmaster said pleasantly, gesturing at the chair seated on the other side of his desk. I stood, watching, as younger me took a seat, perching on its edge.

"How are you settling in?" the headmaster asked, tilting his head.

Past-me tried to answer, but ended up bursting into tears. The headmaster's expression darkened. In a moment I have yet to follow quick enough in my many repetitions of this memory, he reach across the desk and slapped Young-me hard, across the face. My cheek stung in memory. Past-me stopped crying and stared incredulously at the headmaster. I remember that moment. I couldn't believe he had just slapped me. My brain wasn't processing that fact, just the nettling pain from my cheek.

"That is what we are here to discuss," he said serenely, sitting back into his chair, "The rules of you staying here."

Younger me hiccupped, but didn't start crying again. The headmaster nodded.

"Good," he said, "You have already learnt one of the rules. There is to be no outward signs of pain or distress at this compound. No crying, whining, moaning, screaming. No anything. Anything like that will result in a strike. And if you get five strikes you get punished, understand?"

Past-me nodded fleetingly, eyes brimming with tears threatening to spill.

"Good," the headmaster replied, "Now here are the rest."

I can name them in my sleep (no pun intended).

Rule 1: No outward signs of pain or distress at this compound.

Rule 2: The development of relationships will not be tolerated

Rule 3: Lashes will be received for getting caught; stealing, killing, maiming etc. etc.

Rule 4: Under no circumstances are any students to leave the compound unless sent on an assignment, and accompanied by a senior student.

Rule 5: If a child inspector comes, follow procedure quickly and without delay

Rule 6: The headmaster's rule is law

And the final, unspoken rule; every student for themselves.

I lived by these rules now, but back then they passed right by me as I tried not to cry, not wanting to get hit again. I wish I had paid more attention, now.

"That's all," the headmaster concluded, "Six simple rules, okay?"

Past-me nodded.

"And, do you know what happens if you break those rules?" the headmaster asked, leaning forward.

Past-me shrank back, shaking her head. The headmaster smiled widely.

"Allow me to show you."

We walked at a brisk pace, Past-me having to jog to match the headmaster's long strides. After many turns and passageways, we came to a stone door. The headmaster pulled it open. Past-me stepped inside, after some insistent ushering. Once inside, the door was slammed shut behind us, making Young-me flinch. Miss Tulip came over, although I didn't know at the time that that was her name.

"Mr Morgenstern," she said, clearly flustered, "I wasn't aware you were visiting."

"Just introducing young Ash here to the life," he said, putting firm hand on my small shoulder. Miss Tulip gave a pitious smile my way. She knew what was coming.

"You'll want the newest one then?" she asked.

The headmaster nodded. Miss Tulip pursed her lips and beckoned us forward.

"Bill came in yesterday," she told us over her shoulder, "It's still pretty messy."

I could sense remnants of the dread I had felt that day stirring in my stomach. I had been on the edge of a panic attack. Miss Tulip led us through a set of double-doors and Past-me paused in realistion. We were in an infirmary.

"Come along," the headmaster said, pulling on my arm, "We don't have all day."

I watched myself stumble after him. Miss Tulip stopped before a curtained off bed. She looked at the headmaster, who held up a finger. He crouched down to past-me's height.

"This is what happens if you get five strikes," he said softly.

Miss Tulip drew back the curtains and the headmaster pushed me close to the bed. I saw my younger self hold back a retch. I had to agree. Lying on the bed was a boy, about how old I am now. He was lying on his stomach, because their were deep gashes running along his back. They were furrows in his flesh, dried blood outlining them, and slabs of skin along the borders. I had counted at least ten on one of my last visits.

"Five strikes," the headmaster whispered in past-me's ear, making her shiver, "Five strikes, and you get the whip."

He straightened and smiled brightly at Miss Tulip.

"But I'm nice aren't I," he remarked, winking, "You still have four days to settle in. Let's get you back to your dorm, hey?"

My vision went fuzzy as the dream faded. It always ended there. I never saw my walk back to the dormitories. Never saw anything else until the next night.

My eyes fluttered open to the sunlight streaming in the dorm's windows. I sat up slowly, still shaking from my memory. They never lasted long in my head, but when I woke up it was always morning. I pulled off my blankets, sliding my feet onto the chilled pavings. It was freezing in the mornings. I began my morning routine; get up, brush my teeth, get dressed and head out for breakfast with everyone else. Everything was silent. Once at the lunch hall the chatter begun. The main topic; our headmaster visiting the dorms last night. Apparently, he had visited every single one, personally removing low achievers. I grabbed a tray, absentmindedly piling food onto it. I walked over the tiles to where Damien was sitting at the long rows of tables, sliding into the spare seat that he had casually reserved for me, placing my tray next to his. I dug in, wasting no time.

"When's your meeting?" Damien asked through a mouthful of peas.

I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder.

"After lunch," I answered.

He nodded.

"Sure you don't want me to come?" Damien asked, looking at me weirdly.

"I'm fine," I replied firmly, "I've been doing it for weeks without you, haven't I."

"Just wanna check you're all good," he said, shrugging, "Don't want to exhaust yourself. Who would I train with?"

I rolled my eyes and poked him in the arm. We continue eating, catching snippets of the conversations floating around the dining hall. I don't bother asking Damien what his dad was doing last night. He never tells Damien anything. After a few more minutes of silence, the loudspeaker gave a crackle, signalling the end of breakfast. Everyone stood and made their way to the door, empty trays left on the table. The servants would take care of those. We meandered through the halls towards our next class. I sat down in poisons class, but I found it hard to pay attention, a combination that could have ended quite badly. I was too focussed on my meeting with Damien's dad. Time dragged along like a lame leg, and I only got more anxious. Eventually, the bell rang for lunch. I met Damien back in the dining hall and we sat down, eating in silence. I finished what I had placed on my tray and Damien dumped another chicken leg in front of me.

"Eat," he said.

I rolled my eyes, but dug in. We both knew I would need the extra energy. Too soon, the bell rang.

"You be careful," Damien said slowly.

I stood up, pushing my tray away. Other students rushed past me as I strolled to the headmaster's receiving room. I didn't want to be right on the dot. That would convey enthusiasm, and I never looked forward to these meetings. I reached the double doors around three minutes after the bell rang. Pretty good time-wise. I rapped on the wood, stepping back to allow for them to swing open. They did, pushed by our headmaster's assistant, Debra. She scowled at me and I walked right past her without acknowledging her presence. We had a history. Knowing the headmaster would be expecting me, I didn't pause in the waiting room, or take a seat and wait. I instead stormed straight up to the doors and flung them open.

"Ash," the headmaster said, his voice seemingly bored at my display, "Sit."

I stood, a small act of defiance in his presence. The only act I could risk. He simply shook his head.

"Fine then," he replied, "Stand."

He reached underneath his desk and opened a drawer that I couldn't see. He pulled out a large, tan coloured folder, a clipboard and pen, a candle, a ball, a pack of cards and an assortment of other objects.

"Shall we begin?"

Sweat dribbled into my eyes and I let it. I was too focused to wipe it away. My body was shaking, trembling. My outstretched hand shook violently in the air. My hair hung limply around my face, and a trail of blood was slowly making its way out of my nose and down my face. I was exhausted. But, I wasn't allowed to stop. The headmaster frowned.

"Again," he said and I obliged.

"You're getting slower," the headmaster replied instead of praising me, "You need to be faster than that Ash."

I shook my head, lowering my hand. I couldn't. I was spent. Any more and I would probably pass out. I sat down heavily in the chair, hands wrapped around my throbbing head. I was done. A hand shot out and grasped my chin, forcing it up.

"You finish," spat the headmaster, anger evident in his eyes, "When I say you can. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded stiffly, his fingers still pressed into my jaw. He released me and I stood back up, swaying like a drunk. He nodded at the object sitting on his desk.

"Again."

I raised my hand. I focussed. My vision swum.

"Now do it again," the headmaster said impatiently.

I focussed again. I moved my energy towards the object. Everything tilted. My head pounded with a passion. But I had to keep going. Out of nowhere I noticed the floor rushing towards my face and I embraced unconsciousness.

I woke up in Damien's arms. He was carrying me back to my dorm, not even struggling with my weight. His face looked tense, but then, it always did after my meetings. We always followed the same routine; the headmaster would work me until I passed out, and then he would call in Damien to take me away when I did. Damien hated it, but I could tell it was working for me. I had lasted ten minutes longer this week.

"You awake?" Damien murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

I nodded, my head pressed into his chest. His arm tightened around me as he gave me a reassuring squeeze.

"You'll be okay," he continued in a comforting voice, "Just need to get your energy back. I'll drop you up to the infirmary, don't worry, just the casual rooms, and then I'll go get you some food and something to drink, alright?"

I nodded again, unable to muster the energy to do much else. I felt my eyelids begin to droop, and I lapsed back into my exhausted unconsciousness.

I hated the infirmary. I was here every week after I recovered, just in the casual rooms, but I still hated it. These rooms, like all the others at the institute, had cold, flagstone floors which did basically nothing to retain heat. It's walls were plain and mind-numbingly boring after an hour and it had a lingering smell of bleach, which did little to mask the underlying stench of blood and infection with was thickly spread through the air. I sat cross-legged on one of the empty beds, chewing thoughtfully on an apple. Damien sat on the other side, facing me.

"Better?" he asked.

I didn't answer, still working the apple to a mush. Everything tasted delicious after my sessions with the headmaster, probably because of the energy I had used, and this apple was no exception.

"Yeah," I answer, after swallowing my mouthful, "I lasted an extra ten minutes this session. I'm getting stronger, and it was easier for me to control the flame."

Exasperation flicked across Damien's face.

"Right, you meant how am I feeling...I'm feeling fine. Promise."

"You don't look fine."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. I feel fine."

"Ash…"

"Damien, I swear, I feel okay. Got my energy back, ready to go, etc. etc."

Damien looked me over, his expression showing his disbelief. This happened every week. Damien never believed me when I said I was fine. Never.

"I get it," I said carefully, "You're worried. But I'm serious, Damien. I. Feel. Fine."

"Are you sure."

"Yes, Damien."

He chewed his lip.

"Alright then," he gave in, "You're fine."

I smiled at him, moving to the edge of the bed. Damien reached out a hand to help, but I shrugged him off. I was fine. I stood slowly, allowing the blood time to flow to my head. After a quick bout of lightheadedness, I starting walking to the door, Damien close behind, protective as usual. Though to be fair, I realised as we walked back towards the dorms, if roles were reversed, I would probably act the same. We made it to the door of my dorms with only one close call on the stairs.

"Cya Damien," I said, reaching for the door handle.

He grabbed my hand.

"Wait."

I pulled my hand back from the door.

"What?"

He took a big breath.

"I don't like you doing those meetings."

"Damien I'm fi-"

"No, you're not," he cut in, "You act like you are but you're not. After this session was the worst I've seen you. One day you're going to push yourself too far, Ash. And, what happens if you do, huh?"

"I won't-"

"But what if you do? I'm talking to my dad. No more sessions."

He wasn't serious, was he? He knew how important these meetings were to me, for me.

"Damien, you're overreacting," I told him firmly, pulling my hand back out of his, "I'm fine, and I am not stopping my training sessions. Nothing you say will change my mind."

On that sour note, I turned and opened the door to the dorms. I stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

"Ash-," I heard, before the door shut with a reverberating bang that made me and others in my dorm jump. I stormed to my bed and sat down heavily, glaring hotly at anyone who happened to glance my way. There was no way Damien was going to stop me having those training sessions. I needed them. Not just to train. I needed somewhere to use my powers. If I didn't use them they built up inside me. The pressure would keep building until they would burst out. I had no control of these outbursts of power, and in the past, people had gotten hurt. Badly hurt. So, no matter how exhausted they made me and no matter how worried Damien got, I would keep going to those sessions.

Even if it kills me.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	7. 7: Celestia

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-7-

Celestia

* * *

I paced through the car yard, occasionally glancing inside the glazed windows of passing cars. Jack trailed behind, looking ridiculously ill-at-ease. I peeked through the tinted windows of a deep blue jeep. No dice. I continued on.

"So, what are we looking for?" Jack asked cautiously from behind me.

I turned to find him trying to juggle rusted car parts.

"A car," I replied, "Inconspicuous. An older model. Preferably still functionable."

He shrugged and turned to the car nearest to him, dropping the parts and cupping his hands against the windows. Idiot. The car's engine was clearly missing. I turned back to the car I was searching. It looked alright. An older model, average condition, and from what I could see, everything seemed to be in place. I crouched down to check the plates and frowned. Wrong state. That would draw unneeded attention. I stood back up, slapping dust off my hands. Maybe we could switch the plates, but then if we got caught, that would raise even more suspicion. Too risky.

"Hey," Jack called out to me from somewhere around the back of the yard, "What about this one?"

I walked to where he was standing and gave a small grunt of approval. He had chosen fairly well. A common model, Mazda, white, pretty dinged up but not enough to draw attention...yeah, first appearances looked good. I looked through the windows. Everything looked in order inside. I walked around to where Jack had opened the front up. The engine looked good too.

"Right plates," Jack added, pointing.

He was correct. I stepped back, giving the car another once over. Yeah, this will do nicely. I tried the door handle. Locked.

"I got this," said Jack, moving in front of me. He pulled a small bag out of his pocket and opened it up.

Lock-picking tools. I approved.

He crouched down next to the door and inserted the shafts, wiggling them around to try and initiate the latch that would open the door. After a couple seconds of fruitless attempts, I took the tools from his hands. Shoving him aside, I inserted them into the lock. I twisted one to the right, inserted the left a bit further and then slowly, slowly rotated...click. We were in. I chucked the tools back at Jack who took them begrudgingly. I slipped into the driver's seat, running my hands along the wheel. Jack tapped on the roof, swinging down so his head was level with mine.

"Who says you're driving?" he asked, sounding too arrogant for my liking.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Can you drive, Jack?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought. I can, so I'll drive."

Realising there was no point arguing, Jack walked around to passenger side and I reached across and opened the door for him. He fell heavily into the seat.

"What now?"

Now, it was time to hotwire. I leaned over and grabbed one of Jack's knives from around his waist, jamming it in the gap around the consol under the steering wheel. After some slight maneuvering, it popped off. I placed the knife between my teeth, hoping Jack kept it relatively clean, and reached into the console with one hand. I located the two wires I needed, and pulled them out where I could see them. I used Jack's knife to strip of the protective layers, leaving just the bare wire.

"Cross your fingers," I muttered to Jack.

I intertwined the two wires together and the car roared to life. The lights started flashing, the window wipers cleaned off non-existent rain and the radio blared a podcast I had never heard. Jack gave a whoop.

"Let's go," he said enthusiastically.

I separated the two wires, and the car died. Jack looked at me, confused.

"We need to get our story straight first," I explained, "And this does not look like a teenager's car. We need to add some accessories."

Jack nodded. We exited the car and went opposite ways to explores areas of the car-yard. I found a couple air-fresheners, and some small bags that we could chuck in the trunk. I made my way back to the car, and saw Jack doing the same. He had found some bags like I had and some wipes.

"We can go through a carwash for the outside," he suggested, "And we could use some wipes for the inside."

I agreed and we started to accessorise the car. Jack piled our 'bags' into the trunk, while I started on the interior. I coughed, dust tickling my throat. This car definitely needed some work. The wipes quickly got rid of the grime, and it started to look more acceptable. A slam shook the car as Jack finished up in the trunk. He came around to the passenger side and leaned in. I chucked him a cloth and he caught it deftly in one hand without looking at me. He started rubbing some dirt off the roof. After a couple more minutes of intense scrubbing, we both sat down heavily in the chairs.

"Looks good," Jack said, looking around, "Is that all?"

I leaned across and wrapped the car fresheners around the mirror.

"Now we're ready."

Jack smiled and leaned back in his chair. I pulled the wires back out and tied them together, the engine coming alive. I gripped the wheel and tried to remember what to start with. Jack noticed my hesitation and his smile dropped.

"You do remember how t- ," he started, before I threw the car into reverse and backed out.

His knuckles turned white as he held into the door. I smirked as he cleared his throat and settled back into his seat. Putting the car into forward, I starting turning to the left. I pulled out of the car yard and onto the road.

"So what's our story?" Jack asked, "If we get pulled over."

"My name's Celestia," I explained, eyes focussed on the road, "And you're Jack. It's easier to remember our actual names. You're my cousin, same age. We're visiting grandparents at Long Island."

I saw Jack nod out of the corner of my eye.

"And if they ask for a licence?" he asked.

"Then I'll give them mine," I replied, handing him my licence out of the back pocket of my jeans. He raised an eyebrow.

"Fake?"

"Yep"

He laughed. He had a surprisingly nice laugh. I pulled into the main road and into the left lane. I knew I was heading in the general direction of Long Island but...

"Jack, you got directions?"

"Uh, no…"

Seriously? I shook my head and made the decision to pull into the next service station we came across. We would need food anyway. I looked over at Jack, who was hand surfing on the air coming in through his open window. This was going to be a very long ride.

...

We pulled into a gas station about half an hour down the road. I checked the fuel meter. I didn't realise how lucky we were that the car had had fuel when we had found it, but now it was almost empty. Jack jumped out of the passenger seat and stretched.

"Seriously, Jack, it's literally only been half an hour."

"Haven't done a road trip in a while, okay?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You go in and get some food," I told him, "Good food, not just chips and chocolate. I'll fill us back up."

Jack gave a fake salute and set off. Gods, he was such a child. I grabbed the fuel nozzle and inserted it into the car, watching as Jack step inside the gas station, raising a hand to the person behind the counter. He then disappeared, ducking behind a shelf. I looked at the sky, waiting for the tank to fill. Eventually, the nozzle dinged, signalling that the tank was full. I released the trigger and pulled it out, shaking it a little like I had been taught, to avoid spilling fuel on myself. Placing it back in its holder I reached back and closed the little hatch behind me. I started walking to the station. A freshly air-conditioned wind washed over me as the doors slid, and I paused to let its cool waves cool me down. It was so much nicer in here. I found Jack standing in front of an open fridge door. He had a shopping basket draped over his elbow, full of, thankfully, a wide variety of foods. I stood behind him and looked over his shoulder.

"Good idea," I said, making him jump a little, "Bottled water, so we don't have to keep stopping."

He nodded thoughtfully and then murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

"We have money, right?"

Shoot. I'd left the money in the car.

"I'll go get it, take that up to the counter," I told him, turning to run back to the car.

...

 _The target ran back outside of the gas station, loose hair fluttering behind her. She reached her stolen car and rummaged inside for a couple seconds, before pulling out a little wallet in triumph. She dashed back to the station. Our eyes followed her. She was holding the bag in her right hand, indicating that that was her dominant hand. I checked her profile. It matched what we had been told. So far all the descriptions of her had, but it didn't hurt to be sure. The only thing that wasn't quite right in this situation, was that she always worked alone. Always. This boy was a complication, but it was expected that she would dispose of him soon. It was how she worked. Then, we could close in._

...

I skidded to a stop at the front counter where Jack was waiting.

"Sorry about that!" I said cheerfully, "How much is that?"

The man behind the counter told me how much it cost and I gave him the money, careful not to let him see the handful of hundreds stacked inside. I saw Jack's eyes widen, but he quickly looked away. I smiled again.

"Thank you," I said turning to Jack, "Let's get going."

Jack nodded, and turned and smiled at the guy behind the counter, raising a hand in thanks. We both left the service station, me holding half the food. We jumped in the car and I dumped it on Jack's lap, who pursed his lips.

"Wanna tell me where you got that money?" Jack asked, his tone implying it wasn't a question.

"Stole it," I answered, starting the car back up. I drove out of the service station, taking it nice and slow. Jack still hadn't said anything. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was thoughtfully chewing a chocolate bar he must have snuck into the basket.

"Was it from that cow Ms Ives?" he asked.

I nodded. He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

"Then she probably deserved it."

I turned back to the road so Jack wouldn't see the smile that was playing across my lips. Jack muttered something under his breath and reached back to the back seats. I quickly glanced backwards to see him rifling through the bags. What was he doing? I turned my attention back to the road. Suddenly, the rustling stopped and a triumphant grunt came from the back. Jack sat back into his seat, map in hand. He shook it happily at me and unfolded it.

"So," he said frowning as the map crumpled in his lap, "I asked for this back at the station and the guy told me pretty much where we're heading. He said it's...here."

He glanced up.

"We need to continue on this highway until...we see this turnoff to the right...ah...A5?"

Finally some information I can work with! According to the signs I had seen passing the car, that turnoff was about three hours away. I indicated and switched into the left lane. Jack refolded the map so that Long Island was facing up and placed it on top of the dash. He grabbed one of the apples he had collected from the back seat and held it out to me. I looked quickly at him and then back at the road.

"What?"

"Eat."

I crinkled my nose.

"I'm good."

"Eat."

"No, I'm fine."

"Eat."

"Are you kiddin-Jack I'm fine! I'm not hungry!"

"Eat the goddamn apple!"

"No."

Jack threw the apple at me. The idiot actually threw the bloody apple at me. It soared towards my head and I caught it with one hand, the car only just swerving. I glowered at his smirk. I pushed it back towards him but he raised his hands, backing up against the car door.

"Dunno where you're hands have been," he said innocently, "Don't wanna get sick."

Bloody stubborn idiot. I glared at him, but took a bite. It was deliciously crunchy and he was right; I was hungry. Jack smiled widely and settled back into his chair. I took another bite, trying not to focus on my stomachs rumbling.

"There are more in the back," Jack told me, looking out the window, "I got you, like, an armful."

"Why did you-."

"Would you prefer I didn't?"

"Thanks," I mumbled after a pause, kind of hoping he didn't hear.

"Your welcome," he replied, turning back to me, "We're in this together now Celestia, okay? I got your back."

That's what I was worried about.

...

 _'I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones-.'_

"Would you turn that stupid thing off," I groaned at Jack, reaching for the radio controls.

"Uh, no way," he replied, slapping away my hand, "Imagine Dragons are amazing! This song is a masterpiece."

I scoffed and tried to turn the volume down. Jack pushed my hand away again, instead turning the music up even further. He sung along, his voice surprisingly good. I guess he was a descendant of Apollo. I did know this song though. It wasn't too bad. Unconsciously, I found myself humming along. It was kind of catchy.

 _'Radioactive. Radioactive.'_

Realising I had just sung that out-loud by accident, I turned to Jack, hoping he hadn't realised. No such luck.

"I knew you could sing!"

The song finished and the radio hosts came on, talking about some celebrity. I kept my gaze firmly to the front, not looking at Jack's smiling face.

"Come Celestia, lighten up. Have a sing. No judgement, I swear."

"Not interested."

"Come on, next song."

"No! I don't sing!"

"Why not? Your singing voice honestly wasn't that bad."

"It's not that…"

"Then what?"

"Shh...listen to this."

I turned up the radio.

"...still looking for local resident Celestia Lightwood. She was last seen with a dark haired boy estimated to be around the same age and height. They are wanted for theft, assault of multiple officers and assumed murder."

"Crap," Jack muttered, good humour gone.

"Any information on their whereabouts is greatly appreciated by the authorities. They were last seen heading east towards New York."

I switched the radio off. That complicated things. Jack licked his lips, worry painted across his face. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly asking me what we were going to go.

"Doesn't change anything," I told him firmly, "We just can't get caught."

"Great," Jack said sarcastically, turning back to the window, "How much further to Long Island."

"Too far to walk," I told him, realising where his mind was headed. "Like more than a days worth of driving."

A silence fell. Jack tapped his fingers on his knees.

"No."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were going to turn the radio on."

"Pfft, was not!"

"Well don't!"

"Fine!"

Jack glanced around the car, and then starting tapping his fingers on his knees again. I ignored him. He started humming.

"Jack, shut up!"

"It's too quiet! Descendant of Apollo here! Need some kind of noise."

"Well do something else then!"

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Something!"

"Fine," Jack said turning to me, "Twenty questions. Let's play. You first."

"Fine," I replied, not seeing any other option, "Uh...middle name?"

"Aragon."

I snorted, making Jack smile.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Aragon. Jack Aragon Herondale? Seriously? Your parents were Lord of the Rings fans?"

"When I was little we'd watch it at least once a week. They swore by it. My turn?"

I nodded.

"You Athena dominant or Hephaestus dominant?"

I crinkled my nose. What did he mean dominant? Jack seemed to notice my confusion.

"Second generation demigods are usually dominant in one of their godly parents powers. It means like, which do you...have more of in your blood, I guess? Like, are you more like Athena or Hephaestus?"

I thought about it.

"Athena."

"Ok...back to me," I started, trying to think of a question, "Who's better, you or Zack?"

"Zack," Jack answered bitterly, without hesitation, "Always has been, probably always will be."

"Why's that?"

"That's another question. I get to ask two next time. It's just...I'm Hades dominant, as you could tell, but Zack, he's Apollo dominant. So, blond hair, tan, musical and popular. He just kind of shined, and I got stuck in his shadow."

"Was that a light and darkness pun?"

"Yeah I guess it kinda was. My questions. Where did you get your swords from and how do they work?"

"Present," I answered nonchalantly, "Eighth birthday. From my parents. They're specially made for me, and I'm still figuring out all their bits and pieces."

I gestured at my earrings with a hand.

"The earring thing was the coolest part of it I ever found. But, I couldn't wear them around the orphanage because they would get confiscated or stolen, so I had to hide my swords in my mattress."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. Your question."

I gazed at him quizzically, but dismissed it.

"Um, alright...why are you helping me?"

No answer. I looked at Jack and saw he was pursing his lips and looking out in front of the car.

"...Jack?"

He shrugged.

"Been where you've been, I guess," he answered in a monotone, "It sucks."

Wow, that had certainly killed the mood. Jack visibly shook himself and forced a smile.

"Back to me," he said in an overly cheery voice, "What's your favourite animal?"

...

 _"Owl."_

 _The target answered after a slight pause. The boy inquired about whether that was because of the Athena relation, or because of Hedwig, and I stopped listening. I gestured to one of my inferiors and they took over the comms. I paced around the constricted space, trying to sufficiently stretch my cramped body. This was helpful information, but it came at the cost of a ruined back, apparently. I snatched a dry biscuit from my desk and slumped into one of the chairs positioned across the room. I ran over our notes so far. Nothing interesting enough to pass on. The only piece that was of interest was that the girl had lied. She was not Athena dominant. We knew for a fact that her Hephaestus genetics were more developed. It was speculated that she didn't trust the boy enough to disclose that kind of information to him yet. I sighed and leaned back. I should really take the comms back. I handled the equipment better. I was the one who had planted the bug in the first place. I gestured at the recruit I had gotten to take over and they hurriedly jumped up, vacating the seat as if it were ablaze. Good. I sat back down and slipped the headphones over my head. This was going to be a long drive, I thought, chewing laboriously at the biscuit._

 _A very long drive._

 _..._

I woke up with my face pressed up against the glass and my neck at an extremely awkward angle. Groaning softly as I straightened up, I rolled and cracked my neck and upper back.

Note to self; falling asleep mashed up against a car door was not a good idea.

Jack was still asleep, snoring gently in his curled up position on his seat. I chuckled lightly. Funny how I was already assigning pronouns to parts of the car, like I had owned it for years. My seat. Jack's seat.

Ah, early morning humour.

I reached as quietly as I could into the backseat, trying to find an apple. Got one. Score in hand, I turned back to my window, feet tucked up underneath me. I stared at the dew-ridden window as I took a bite. I was not usually a morning person, but it really was beautiful to watch the early sun's rays reflect through the condensation on my window. A snuffle and a grunt behind me. Jack slowly opened his eyes, face taking on that early-morning look. He snuffled again and rubbed his eyes.

"Mornin'," he mumbled, glancing around sleepily, stifling a yawn, "Wah time issit?"

I looked at the clock on the dash.

"Fiveish?"

Jack groaned and turned back over.

"Wake me when it's, like, nine."

I rolled my eyes and started the car. Jack groaned again but sat up straight, still trying to sufficiently wake up. I rolled out of the abandoned parking lot, making sure to look for cop cars. Yesterday Jack and I had run the car through a carwash. The guy at the entrance didn't give us a second glance, simply taking our cash and waving us through. Now the outside of our car looked the part too.

"Jack," I said elbowing him.

"Mm," he mumbled.

"We need to change our story. They know my name."

"Yeah."

"Jane Smith and Zack Smith."

"Jane?"

"It's my middle name."

"Oh."

"Anyway, everything else about our story is the same, okay. Except, if they ask, we're from around Dallas."

"We don't sound like we're from Dallas."

"Parents moved there a couple years ago."

"Yeah, alright."

"Cool."

We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Jack pulled a chocolate bar out of an unseen compartment and peeled it with reverence. We drove without talking for about another hour, a record for Jack not talking, I was pretty sure.

"Hey, can we pull over at the next gas station?"

Record over.

"Yeah, what's up?" I asked.

"Bathroom break," Jack replied, "Plus, I want some more chocolate."

I rolled my eyes but made a mental note to check the signs for the next turnoff for a gas station. There was one in about five minutes and I pointed it out to Jack, who nodded. After five and a half minutes of tense silence including Jack wiggling like a worm, the station came into view. I pulled into one of the empty parking places and Jack was out the door before I had even come to a full stop. He jogged across to the bathrooms around the back of the building, face scrunched up in concentration. I let out a soft chuckle when he was out of earshot. He looked ridiculous. I got out and stretched my legs, a little cramped after driving for so long. I leaned against the car, face turned up to the sky, soaking in the warm sunlight. It was very relaxing.

"Start the car!" came a yell and my eyes snapped open.

Jack was backing out from where the bathrooms were, a hand held up submissively in front of him.

"Car!" He yelled, "Engine on!"

I opened the driver side door and slipped inside. Sensing the urgency in Jack's voice, I yanked open the cable hatch with none of my usual delicacy. I struck the wires together once, twice, with no reaction. Third time lucky, the engine groaned to life. I spun the car around and drove straight at Jack, flinging the passenger side door open with my foot as I drove. I drifted past Jack and he jumped in, slamming the door shut behind him. I floored the accelerator, shooting towards the main road.

"What the hell?" I asked through my teeth.

"Cashier recognised me when I asked for a key," Jack panted, "They called the cops and then came out with a gun."

Guess we'd have to ditch the car now. I sighed. We were still a couple hours out of Long Island, and that was by vehicle.

"When did they call them?"

"Would have been a minute ago, two? Where are we ditching the car?"

I was glad that he had caught on.

"There's a lake coming up. Fancy a swim?"

...

The lake was almost ridiculously freezing. Jack and I were both up to our knees in the icy water, pushing the car in deeper. Our bags and what was left of our food sat on the shore over by one of the overhanging willow trees. Finally, with one last heave, the car went over a ledge and was sucked down through the water. Both giving triumphant noises, we waded back to the shore. We made it back to our packs, shivering when the slight breeze tickled our wet skin. The car was completely submerged, only a handful of bubbles on the surface of the lake showing it was ever there. I slipped my sneakers back on and ran on the spot for a couple seconds, trying to work my circulation back up. When my toes were no longer feeling dead, I swung my bag back over my shoulder, stifling a groan at its weight. The night I had packed it I had been hyped up adrenaline, but now that that had passed, it was really heavy. But, I would handle it.

"Come on," I said to Jack who was packing the food in his backpack, "We better get going."

"Which way."

I pulled out the map we had bought and my compass, comparing the two.

"This way," I said, setting off north-east. I could hear Jack's footsteps behind me as we continued our journey on foot.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	8. 8: Jack

Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-8-

Jack

* * *

The gross, earthy taste lingered in my mouth as I spat out a couple more leaves. Whether she realised it or not, every time Celestia absent-mindedly brushed past a branch, it flicked right back at my face. I could practically feel myself bruising with each hit. We were trekking through the large collection of trees that ran beside the main highway that we _could_ have been driving on if that stupid cashier hadn't recognised me.

The whole situation was dumb really.

I had grabbed the key from him and then headed out to the back of the building, where the bathrooms were. I had done my business and quickly washed my hands and face in the small, stained sinks. Glancing at the mirror, I had run my hands through my hair, trying to settle it down a bit. The cowslicks always stood back up. It never seemed to do what I wanted it to. When I had walked back into the gas station to return the key, the guy behind the counter was calling the cops. What gave it away, you ask? Well he said something along the lines of; 'two teenagers', 'match description' and 'please come quick, officer', so I put two and two together. I threw the keys back at him (I'm not a thief) and ran back outside, calling for Celestia to start the car.

Which she did. Eventually.

And now, we were walking through thick undergrowth, in the middle of the day, and Celestia kept flicking branches into my face.

"Can you stop?" I exclaimed as another leafy projectile was flung my way.

Celestia spun around, eyes angry.

"What?"

"You keep flicking branches into my face every time you walk past one."

"Calm down, I'm not doing it on purpose."

"Well, can you stop?"

"Fine."

We kept walking. And, sure enough, after a couple of minutes, another branch smacked me in the face.

"You did it again! It was on purpose that time, wasn't it!"

" _Sorry_ , I can't exactly tell if they're going to flick back, can I?"

"Well how about I take the lead?"

"You don't know where we're going."

"Fine, give me the compass and the map then."

"No." Her tone suggested that idea was preposterous.

"Why not?"

"Because I said no."

"Well that-"

"Shh."

"Don't shh me."

"No seriously, Jack, shut up."

The urgency in her tone stopped me, although I was still curious as to why Celestia didn't trust me enough to let me hold the compass. We both paused, crouching in the undergrowth. Celestia's gaze was at the sky.

"Can you hear that?" she whispered to me, face right next to mine.

My ears strained to listen closer to the forest around me. Nothing. I shook my head at her. She put a finger to her lips, signalling for us to keep quiet before setting off stealthily through the brush, hardly making a whisper of noise. I followed her, trying to be just as silent, but failing miserably, most definitely not tripping over a tree root and face-planting into the ground. Picking my nose up out of the dirt, I heard Celestia stifling giggles in front of me, before raising her finger to her lips and setting off again. After a minute of still not hearing anything, I put a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around.

"What did you hear?" I asked, ignoring her hushing motions. "I can't hear anything."

"I thought...well I thought I heard a helicopter."

Seriously? A helicopter? That's why we were moving so carefully?

"A helicopter." I said slowly. "What colour?"

Celestia rolled her eyes at me.

"Yes. A helicopter. It's not that ridiculous. We are wanted for murder, remember."

"Suspected murder. It's not as bad."

"Still murder, Jack."

I was about to retaliate when I was interrupted by the sounds of rotor blades above us. Leaves spiralled down from the canopy as the large gusts sent them blowing. Celestia and I dived into the undergrowth near the base of a large tree, hoping that we wouldn't be seen. The helicopter passed over us without incident. Once the leaves had settled, and we could no longer hear its motor we stood cautiously back up.

"Helicopter," I murmured, "Huh."

Celestia gave me a smug smirk before turning around and setting off in the direction we were heading before we were so rudely interrupted.

"Come on."

Was she serious? We had literally _just_ had a helicopter fly over us. Celestia didn't seem to notice my hesitation, and continued walking. I shook my head and jogged after her.

"Are we not stopping?"

"No. Why should we? It's not like they weren't gonna be looking for us. Plus, we're nearly at camp anyway."

We were?

"How much further?"

"Not far. One and a half, two hours?"

Wow. I hadn't even realised. That meant I was running out of time. I moved forward so that I was walking alongside Celestia.

"So about the camp…"

"What about it?"

I paused, thinking of how to word what I was going to say. This was important.

"Could you...could you maybe not mention the whole shadow-travelling thing?"

"Why? Is it supposed to be a secret?"

How could she read me like that?

"Yeah, kinda."

Celestia stopped, regarding me.

"Why's that?" She asked, just like I knew that she would. A couple days and I already knew how she worked.

"It's… it's a second generation thing."

"And? Is it something I should be worrying about?"

"No, no. It's just… second generation demigods, right. We either get our mum's power or dad's. We can't get both."

"And you have both?" Celestia questioned slowly.

I nodded. Celestia's face gave away her processing thoughts.

"So you won't tell?" I burst out, unable to bear the silence much longer.

Celestia shook her head and relief blossomed in my chest. I hadn't realised how worried I had been. The only other people who knew about the power thing were Zack and Chiron.

"So how does no one realise your a descendant of Hades? I mean…"

She gestured at my outfit and I had to laugh; she had a point.

"Yeah, most people just think I'm an emo who gets his looks from his mum."

That got a start of a smile from Celestia. We kept walking.

"So, is Zack like that too?"

"Nah," I replied. He had never shown any Hades traits. It was just me.

"So, I don't get it," Celestia told me, "Why is it bad?"

"We're supposed to be really powerful. Apparently both the powers manifest inside the demigod, like there's a war fighting inside them. They say that if they don't use the powers, they could explode out, without the demigods control. Apparently, we're dangerous. Monstrous. Abominations."

The look on Celestia's face stopped me.

"Sorry. We don't exactly get a good rep. But it's fine. That's why I go on solo hunts; to blow off steam. I don't have any outbursts or anything, haven't in ages."

"No, no. I wasn't trying to...I believe you, Jack. Are you...do you know any other second generation demigods like you?"

"Not really," I shrugged, "Chiron reckons that there aren't very many. He knows, by the way.

Only him and Zack though."

"Right." Celestia sounded like that wasn't the answer she was looking for. "What about Zoe?"

"Yeah, no. They don't know about her either."

Silence fell as we continued walking. Eventually, the section of forest we were trekking through gave way to road, and we were forced to leave its leafy security. The sun was high in its peak, making both of us squint as we stepped out from the shade.

"Which way?"

Celestia pulled the map back open again, comparing it with her compass. I wondered where she had got it. It was very beautiful. It was made of just a simple copper, but it had an extremely ornate and complex design on its front.

"We need to follow this road for maybe ten minutes? Then we're nearly there."

Alright then. We set off down the side of the road, watching the occasional car go past. We kept a steady pace, heads down. I didn't know about Celestia, but the constant walking was starting to wear me down. The sun beat constantly and mercilessly on my neck, and I could practically feel my skin scorching. My black clothing only helped to amplify the heat. Hopefully, we would be back at camp soon.

...

It was a surprisingly slow process now that we were out of the cover of trees. Everytime we heard an engine, we tensed, prepared to run in case it was the cops. We were on edge. Once a car backfired down some side street, sending a loud bang echoing down the main road. I had dropped to a roll, barrelling forward. I had then jumped to my feet, sword drawn, eyes searching. Nothing to be to seen, I had turned to Celestia, to see her in a crouch behind me, her double blades drawn and gleaming in the sun. After a couple seconds of scanning, we had both relaxed, me placing my sword back in its hilt and Celestia twirling them into her earrings, which was still totally awesome. Now, we were maybe five minutes from camp, according to Celestia. We were walking side-by-side, both still cautious. A split in the road came up ahead, causing us to pause. Celestia pulled out her compass, flipping open the lid. I leaned in closer, confused. The dial of the compass was spinning wildly, moving with seemingly no control. Celestia swore under her breath and shut it quickly, stuffing it back into her jeans pocket.

"We need to move. Now."

"What's going on?"

"Monsters. Close by."

That compass detected monsters? Celestia's gear was wicked!

Not the time.

I grabbed Celestia's arm, giving her a tug in what I vaguely recognised as the direction of the camp. As we ran we both drew our swords, my Stygian Iron blade hanging from my right hand. I felt reassured knowing that I had it; it could kill practically anything, and make sure that it stays dead. Gods I loved this blade. Once it kills a monster, it absorbs that monsters energy and life, making it impossible for the it to revive, helping make the world just a little safer for demigods like me. Feet pounding on the bitumen, we gradually got closer to camp, both of us continuously checking our surroundings for incoming monsters. But, we couldn't see any.

"You're sure there's monsters?" I asked Celestia again.

She nodded firmly.

"It's never wrong."

Alrighty then. Ahead of us I could see the forest that led to the boundary of the camp.

"Up ahead."

We dashed into the forest, taking leaps over protruding roots. About ten seconds into the trees, Celestia stopped me.

"What?"

"Shh."

What, did this girl have super hearing or something? I watched her as she glanced around the forest.

"Something...something's not right. Listen."

She must be crazy. But, I listened closer to the sounds of the forest, trying to pick up what Celestia was going on about. I strained my ears, but I honestly couldn't hear anything-wait a second...

"Where are all the birds?"

"Exactly."

The silence was now deafening around us, the only sound coming from our slight movements as we looked around. No birds. No small animals in the undergrowth. Not even a wind to rustle the branches. Nothing. Suddenly, a noise broke through the quiet.

Crunch.

The sound of dead foliage being stepped on, coming from about ten feet to our left. We both spun to meet it, swords at the ready.

Crunch.

This time from behind us. I spun, now standing back to back with Celestia. I tapped Celestia's shoulder to let her know I was covering her back. She nodded.

Crunch. Crunch.

From our left side.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

From all around us.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

My mouth was dry. We were surrounded by whatever was hidden in these woods. A flash to the right of my vision. Celestia rattled a breath behind me, letting it out slowly. I could practically feel the tension leaving her body from where our back were pressed together. Clearly she had fought before. I licked my lips and tightened my grip on my sword. She better have. Suddenly, a shape came flying out of the trees, flailing towards me. Doubt was flung from my mind as adrenaline set in and I raised my sword. I blocked the incoming strike and my attacker stumbled back. I drew in a surprised breath between my teeth.

"Celestia! Watch out! It's skeletons!"

The skeleton in front of me tilted its head, teeth clattering against each other like it was laughing at me and dashed forward. Behind it, I saw two more break from the trees. Great. I pushed off Celestia's back, which thankfully was braced in anticipation of my lunge, and connected with the first skeleton. His strike was surprisingly strong for someone made of purely bone. I heard Celestia engaging with the skeletons behind me, swords clanging as they connected. I spun to the left, dodging a downwards strike.

"How do we kill these things?" I heard Celestia yell to my right.

I glanced over to her and saw her stabbing a skeleton over and over again with her swords, the tips of the blades poking out the skeleton's back. It was having no effect. Her swords! Of course. You could only kill the undead by being a descendant of Hades or with Stygian Iron; Celestial Bronze wouldn't work.

"Decapitation works best. But you need Sty-."

I was interrupted as Celestia took the skeletons head off with a powerful swing. It disintegrated into a ebony dust. Huh. I dived to the left again as my skeletons faced forward.

"I thought your swords were Celestial Bronze," I remarked, deflecting a strike.

"They are," Celestia grunted, "And Stygian Iron. And Imperial Gold. And they have a bit of Adamantine too."

How in Hades...who gave her these swords? And how did she wield them? Stygian Iron could only be used by descendants of Hades. I would have to check them out.

Once we defeated these skeletons, that is.

I swiftly finished off one of the incoming skeletons, the dust flying into the air. The other two drew in closer, and I deflected both of their strikes with a flick of my sword. When the one on the right darted forward, I rolled off their attack, sliding to their undefended right side. I swung my blade through their neck, coughing as the dust exploded in my face. I glanced over at Celestia and saw her successfully defending off at least five other skeletons.

Damn, I guess she could fight.

I turned back to my last enemy, who had been trying to stealthily move up behind me. It attacked, taking me by surprise with its ferocity. Once I had lost the momentum, the skeleton pressed forward. I took cautious steps back, defending myself. A hard thump against my back and I hit a tree. I pushed off it and launched at the skeleton, taking the advantage. I bypassed its defenses, decapitating it. The dust spiralled around me as I ran to go help Celestia. Beheading one, I stepped into the middle of the fray, standing side-by-side with Celestia. We fought fluently, like we had trained together for years. We spun to the left in sync, attacking the skeleton the other just was fighting. I crouched and Celestia rolled effortlessly over my back, like we had practiced it before. Exhalation was rising in my chest. The fight was going well.

That was, until I got stabbed in the leg.

...

There must have been a skeleton behind me. My back was facing them, so I didn't know for sure. It drove its keen blade deep into my calf. At first, it didn't hurt, my leg just feeling kind of numb. Which was weird, when you think about it. Because I had just been, you know, stabbed. Generally when I get stabbed, it hurts. Celestia's eyes widened in my direction as she saw my injury a split second after I did. She raised her gaze to mine and mouthed something, looking worried. I gave her a thumbs-up despite not knowing what she'd said. I was fine.

And then it started to burn, like someone had scalded me with a white-hot poker. I gave a harsh shout before removing the offending skeletons head from his body. I dropped to my knee as the agonizing pain set in, running in throes up and down my leg, and throughout my whole body. I feebly swung my sword, but I was honestly not going to be much help. The pain was intense; violent and fierce. It didn't just ache where the blade had entered. My head was throbbing, my toes and fingers were tingling and my heart was pounding. It was so much worse than it should have been. It was meant to be just a stab-wound in the calf. So why did it hurt like hell? I'd suffered way worse and walked away. Looking to where the skeleton had fallen, I noticed that the blade, under my layers of blood, was crudely serrated. That explained the torment. My calf was probably in ribbons. The trees spun, seeming to blur into one. Suddenly, I was aware that I was lying on the ground, staring up at the dark green canopy. How had that happened? Then I realised I was being dragged backwards across the ground, my shirt collar tight around my throat. I twisted, trying to throw off my kidnapper.

"Knock it off," Celestia hissed at me.

Oh. It was Celestia dragging me. Where were we goin? And why was she doing that again? A hard thump against the back of my head sent the world a momentary patchy black.

"Crap, sorry."

I realised I was leaning against a tree. I watched as Celestia stood in front of me, one leg on either side of my body, facing the incoming skeletons. I tried to count them, but my brain kept losing track. It was probably more than twenty, and definitely more than Celestia could handle on her own. She needed my help. I tried to sit up, but quickly slumped back down, hardly realising I was groaning in pain. Gods that hurt. My head felt like it was full of angry bees.

"Celestia," I tried to say.

"Cewestaya." Came out of my mouth.

"Shut up Jack," came the response, "I'm fine."

Did she not see the twenty...or maybe it was thirty...skeletons charging towards her? After another attempt to sit up failed dreadfully, I realised that there was nothing more I could do. Celestia would have to deal with these monsters on her own. While I sat here like a sack of potatoes and watched.

Great.

...

Celestia waited for the incoming skeletons, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. She held her swords loosely in her hands, shaking them slightly as she bobbed. I felt dread build up in my chest. Despite only knowing her for, what, two days, I was worried for her. Not only was she my responsibility; I had said I would get her here, but she wasn't a bad person. I didn't want her to die, let alone die standing over me and fighting off monsters. And, she would die. Even some of the best demigods I knew, myself included, probably couldn't fight off that many skeletons. It was suicide. But Celestia didn't seem that worried. Either she was cocky and arrogant, or maybe she knew she could take them. From what I had seen of her fighting skills, they were great. Amazing even. But not that amazing.

Maybe, she had already accepted her fate.

The skeletons closed in, only a couple feet away us. The spread out into a semicircle, coming to a stop as the rest of their forces gathered. There was an electric pause, almost like the calm before the storm. Celestia raised her hands, and flipped them off.

"Come on then. Bring it on, you bony punks."

The skeletal army charged forward, silent battle-cries emitting from their open mouths. They were getting closer. Eight feet. Celestia stood, not moving, staring with a bored expression at the incoming monsters. What was she doing? Six feet. She rolled her shoulders, tilted her head, looking so at ease that she could have just woken up. Three feet away. The were practically touching my feet. She turned around to me. Meeting my eye, she winked, her mouth stretched into one of the few true smiles I had seen from her. She turned back to the monsters, whose sword points were practically upon her.

"Player One, ready to fight," she muttered.

With a fierce yell Celestia charged forward into the monster's ranks, swords already swinging. She was quickly surrounded, and from my vantage point, (that is, on the ground), I couldn't see what was happening. There was a couple seconds where all I could hear was the intense clashing of metals as Celestia hopefully fought off the skeletons. I pulled my feet up to my chest as skeleton's skull fell where they were once resting, rolling clockwise slightly before fragmenting into small pieces of dust. Seemingly out of nowhere, large clouds of dust flew up, polluting the air. And, through the dissipating skeleton remains, I could finally see Celestia.

...

I had never seen an Amazon, or a Hunter of Artemis fight, but if I had, I was certain they would look exactly like how Celestia looked in that moment. She was practically glowing, face alight with an air of joy as she fought. Her swords were a blur, and no matter how hard I focussed, I couldn't keep up. They left azure streaks in the air as they swung, and I thought for a second that they were on fire.

Then I noticed they were actually on fire.

Bright blue flames swelled out of them, seemingly from along the edge of the blade, and from what I had taken for a decoration along the flat of the blade. Clearly, this was normal, because Celestia wasn't freaking out about it. Heck, she seemed to be utilizing it, warding off any nearby skeletons, of which there were dwindling numbers. But the most awing thing was her fighting. She fought with speed and precision, moving fluidly, almost like she could anticipate the skeleton's attack before they had even thought of them. She moved so gracefully, her swords seeming to wield themselves. She used techniques I had never even seen before, improvising and appearing to make up her attack as she went. It was unorthodox, but it was perfect. She was slaying at least a monster a second, hardly even breaking a sweat. Her footwork was flawless, her concentration was honed and she read the fight like a nursery book.

Murkiness started to creep from the corners of my vision, but I fought to keep my eyes open. Celestia was duelling with the last couple of skeletons, fighting off three with her speedy motions. Two fell under her relentless onslaught, the third turning and beginning to flee. In a fluid motion, Celestia threw her sword after the skeletal enemy. Spiralling through the air it cut clean through the skeleton's neck, transforming the monster into a pile of dust and embedding itself into the trunk of a large evergreen tree. Celestia jogged over and, bracing a leg against the wide trunk, pulled her sword free. Stumbling back a few steps, she regained her balance. She turned, taking in the scene that lay in front of us. Piles of inky dust covered the ground and coiled through the air. I felt my mouth drop open slightly. They were all dead. She had killed every single one. She seemed to notice the same thing.

"Celestia: 1. Skeletons: 0." she chuckled.

Her eyes widened as her gaze fell on me. She swore and jogged over, returning her stained swords to their earring hilts. Crouching next to me, she examined my face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry evident in her voice, "Jack? Jac-"

Inky blackness crept stealthily into my vision, blocking my gaze. I collapsed into unconsciousness, Celestia's calling voice echoing in my head.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	9. 9: Ash

Hey Guys!

Nine chapters in! A few have you have asked some questions in the comments, so I'll answer them here. Firstly, while this fic is more focussed on Second Generation Demigods, we will see some of the Original Seven. But they take a backseat and you get to see more of their casual lives. But do not despair! If you want to read more about what happened to the Original Seven after the events of 'A New Uprising', go check out my co-author's fics (supersassysnakeatingbadger). They just finished a story on Will and Nico, and are currently working on a Percabeth centered one which I'm really excited for! Ok, ok enough of the free promo there. Secondly, starting next chapter (where it comes back in) I will be separating our mysterious perspective in Celestia's chapters, just by ruling it off so its easier to read. as per request.

Alrighty, I think that's all! Any more questions or suggestions, chuck them in or a comment or shoot me a PM.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-9-

Ash

* * *

Their screams pierced my ears, drilling deep into my brain. I felt the smoke fill my lungs, scorching and searing. My cough that tried to expel it failed, leaving a lingering stringy, smoky feeling. My eyes stung, aching from the billowing smoke and heat, but I couldn't shut them. I had to see where I was going. At least I could see my surroundings, charred and cindery as they were. The heat pressed in from all sides, not touching me, not burning me, but sitting unbearably close to my skin, pressing and confining me. I dashed forward through an aflame wooden door, kicking it open before stepping inside, cough violently into my elbow.

The room was only fire.

No furniture. No walls. No roof.

Just flaring, roaring, blistering fire. And worse, what I was looking for was not here. Or, if it was, it was long since smouldering. My chest heaved as the sobs began. I tried to hold it back. I had a job to do; there was no time for any emotions. But a couple tears slipped down my cheeks, leaving a moist trail in the residue coating my face that quickly dried.

They weren't here.

I couldn't find them.

I had searched all the rooms downstairs. The entire upper floor was ignited, flames licking out the windows, the roof. I sprinted to the staircase, tears now spilling freely down my cheeks. Taking a hacking breath, I started up the decaying wooden stairs, trying to avoid the gaping holes. My foot slipped through one, stinging pain lacing my ankle as the sharp edge cut into my leg, drawing blood. I struggled to pull it out, breathing becoming harder and harder as the soot lined my lungs. Finally, with a hard tug, my foot came free. But the excess force sent me tumbling back down the stairs, the edges thumping on my spine, elbows and knees as I tried to slow my fall. I leapt back up as soon as I landed at the bottom of the stairs, trying to climb back up. It wasn't working. The blaze had consumed most of the stairs, crumbling them to black flecks that collapsed under my weight. The screams intensified above me, growing more panicked and horrified. They were terrified. I could tell. And I couldn't get to them. I hiccupped as the sobs racked my chest. I had to. They were up there. They would burn. This was all my fault.

I leaned against the wall and slid down until I hit the ground, arms wrapped around my knees as the flames leapt steadily closer..

All my fault. All my fault. All my fault.

...

"All my fault," I muttered as I woke up with a start. I drew in a raspy breath, coming back to reality. Cheeks damp, I wiped my face as well as I could. My body was drenched in sweat, my singlet stuck tight to my stomach. It felt repulsive. My sheet was tacky and felt swelteringly hot against my skin. I needed a shower. I pulled my legs out from under the sheet, placing them shakily on the cobbles. Their piercing cold was fresh and woke me up just a bit, drawing me back to the real world. I stood up, closing my eyes to regain my composure. On silent feet I paced to the shower, running a hand through my hair. This was getting tiresome. I thought I was over this months ago. I stripped off my sleeping clothes, placing them on the bench next to me. Letting the iciness of the water wash away the remnants of my nightmare, I tried to calm down.

The smoke. The heat. The screams.

I took a big breath, leaning against the shower wall. _I was fine,_ I told myself. But the nightmare still lingered, planting its images in my head. I tried to push it away, but it kept returning.

The smoke.

The heat.

 _The screams._

I covered my mouth to stop myself from groaning. These had stopped. Wasn't I was rid of these night-time tortures? Apparently not. But why? I hadn't had these in years. Not since my first year here. Why? Why now? I pushed down the bile that was rising in my throat, trying to focus on the feel of the water pattering down on my heated face. How nice it felt. How relaxing. I don't remember how long I stayed there, just letting the water run down my face. Eventually, my mind settled and I gained the strength to leave its warm refuge. I towelled myself off and slipped back into my sleeping clothes, which had aired out while I was showering. I wrapped my hair up in a brisk bun and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were sunken and had sizable dark patches under them. My mouth looked pinched and like I was about to hit someone.

I just looked drained.

I padded back to my bed, slipping under the covers. After a moment's consideration, I flung them off. Too hot. Too hot, even though I was shivering as the cool air kissed my damp skin. I released a large, but silent, breath. No more incidents. Not again. Not ever again.

Sunlight attacked my closed eyelids. It could not seriously be morning already. I rolled over. Yep, definitely morning. I sat up slowly, stretching my arms. Thankfully, I had slept well after my little 'incident' last night. I was still quite sleep deprived, but I'd manage. With no need for a shower this morning, I simply dressed into my gear in the change rooms. One of the first girls awake for once and now fully dressed, I sat back down on my bed and opened my bedside table drawer, pulling out my hairbrush. It fell loose around my shoulders as I relinquished it of its bun status. I ran brush through its relatively smooth bulk, straightening and evening it. When I was done I quickly parted it, beginning to braid my hair into two tight braids on either side of my head. My hands moved like clockwork, the motion familiar and welcome. From where I sat I could see everyone getting ready, and I absorbed as much information as I could.

Hailey didn't use shampoo in her hair this morning.

Erin was wearing clothes a size too small for her.

Wendy's gear was torn, at the back, where she couldn't see.

Not all, or any, of this was necessarily helpful, but you never know what you could exploit these days. And the day I might need to use that information could be soon, so it never hurt to collect intel. Braids completed and hairbrush returned to its place in my bedside table, I stood. I began readjusting my sheets and pillows, making my bed to the institute's standard. Bed looking crisp and proper way before inspection I found myself with free time on my hands. I grabbed my book and sat down on the cobbles next to my bed, not wanting to disturb my sheets. I flicked the dog-eared pages to where my bookmark was placed, letting it fall onto the floor. The words beckoned me, tried to draw me into their fanatical, sadistic world. I relented, falling into the plot, immersing myself in the characters.

Gods, Stephen King could write!

As the noise died down I realised that it was nearly time for the morning inspection. I replaced my bookmark and set my book back on the bedside table.

Feet together.

Chin up.

Eyes forward.

We awaited inspection. I could read the atmosphere in the room. We were all wondering if was going to be the headmaster again. Dreading, really. The door was opened and there was an almost audible sigh of relief. It wasn't the headmaster. It was a teacher that I hadn't met before, not surprising since I had hardly been to every class there was. He paced past the beds, ticking names as he went, or making small crosses if anyone failed to meet the criteria. Don't meet them enough; you get a strike to your name. He strode past my bed, giving it a customary glance, before placing a tick next to my name. I gave a small smile to my feet. Nice. The teacher finished our row, and started down the other side. Once he had finished, he turned and addressed us all. After a pause he gave a warm smile, which was pretty rare for teachers here to do.

"Good job girls," he said, his voice holding a slight irish lilt, "No crosses here."

With another look around, he left, closing the door behind him.

Huh.

I moved with the rest of the group to breakfast, bodies pressed unbearably close in the hallways. It would be all to easy to stab someone here; it was so crowded that no one would be able to identify you. I held onto that thought as I traversed down the hallways to the dining hall. Walking through the arched doorway, I saw Damien straight away. He gave me a nod, indicating that he had managed to snag me a seat. I nodded back. The line for the food began to my left, and I joined it, trying to decide how much food I wanted. I opted for one of the medium size plates as I passed, placing it on my tray. Adding an apple and a plastic cup of orange juice, I exited the line, heading over to Damien. I placed my tray on the table and sat down heavily, wiping my hands over my face in an attempt to wake myself up.

"You alright?" Damien asked, taking a bite of his apple, "You look really tired."

I nodded, head still in hands. Damien gave me a concerned look, but didn't push it. He knew I'd tell him later. I raised my head and dug into my breakfast, piling the eggs, bacon and toast into a giant heap and attempting to shove it all in my mouth at once, much to Damien's disgust. He finished just before me and we stood together, leaving our trays behind. We both headed to the training room without discussion; whenever we both had a free period, like now, we always trained. I sighed quietly, rubbing my eyes again. I didn't know how I was going to get through today.

...

"Ash, come on, that's the fourth time I've beaten you."

I was lying on my back on the hard stone floor of the training room. Damien was right, it was the fourth time, but right now I was relishing the feeling of being horizontal. I pulled myself up reluctantly, accepting Damien's offered hand. I took my stance again, and Damien his. I was not focussing at all. My eyelids felt droopy and Damien's words kept slipping past me.

"-ong yet?"

"Hmm?" I asked, having completely missed what he had asked me.

"I said," Damien told me, shaking his head, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong yet?"

"Just tired," I mumbled, not really feeling like discussing my nightmares right now. Damien gave me a sceptical look, but let me get away with it.

"You have another meeting with my father today, don't you?" he asked instead.

I bobbed my head in acknowledgement. "Next."

"You better wake up then, Ash. He won't like it if you're drowsy."

Damien had an extremely valid point, I realised. I would be dead meat if I didn't get it together before my meeting. I shook my head, trying to clear my head.

"Alright, let's go again."

Damien raised an eyebrow.

"You su-."

"I'm sure."

We both took our stances. Damien lunged forward, aiming a thrust at my midriff, which I deflected. Barely. I needed concentrate. Damien came in with a feint but I sidestepped it, giving the back of his head a little tab with my practice sword as he went past.

"There we go, Ash!"

Feeling a bit more alert, I began to bounce on my feet. I tilted my head at Damien; an invitation to go harder. Damien smiled. He twirled his sword like the show-off he is, stepping forward. I met him, deflecting his flashy spinning and striking low, trying to hit his legs. He jumped back, grinning now.

"Better."

This time, I lunged forward, catching Damien off guard. I pressed him back, my blows only just getting deflected. I mixed it up; swinging my swords both left, both right, one each way, thrusting towards his chest, overheads. It was messing with him and soon, instead of deflecting, he was retreating, jumping back to avoid my sword. He had reached the wall of the training room and his back hit it with a thump. I jumped forward, pressing the long edge of my blade to his throat, my full body weight behind it. The bell rang signalling the end of first period. I raised my eyebrow at Damien.

"Saved by the bell," I taunted.

But Damien didn't look like he was in a joking mood.

"You be careful with him."

I stepped back, letting him move from off the wall. Always the same thing with him. Be careful. Didn't he get that I _was_ being careful? All the time. I never stopped being bloody careful.

"See you Damien," I said, turning to walk to the door.

"Hey," he called, grabbing my arm, "I'm serious."

"I know you are Damien," I sighed, "I'll be careful, I promise."

"Alright," Damien agreed, releasing my arm, "I'll talk to you after."

"Okay."

I slipped past Damien and headed out into the corridor. I had a meeting to get to.

...

"Looking average, Debra! Not caring about your diet. So brave, very brave."

I brushed past her and into the headmaster's extravagant office. I was met by Mr Morgenstern's firm glare.

"Did you just insult my secretary, Ash?"

"Of course not Mr Morgenstern!" I smiled. "I kept it very neutral."

He squinted his eyes at me, but let it slide. He gestured at the plush chairs seated in front of his desk, like always. And, like always, I declined, preferring to stand. I waited for him to pull open his drawer, but he didn't.

"Ash, you and Damien are quite close, are you not?"

Crap. How do I answer that? Do I tell the truth, that we are close friends and that we are breaking the rules? Or, do I lie and say we aren't, and get called out? By the look on the headmaster's face, he could see the war playing out inside my mind. Well, considering that he was the headmaster and heard everything, and that he was Damien's dad, I assumed that he already knew of mine and Damien's friendship. So…

"Yes, Mr Morgenstern," I replied, "We are close."

He leaned forward, forearms resting on the desk, hands clasped together. He regarded me, scanning my face with his intelligent eyes.

"You are well aware then," he asked, "that Damien's birthday is in just over two weeks."

I nodded. I had been keeping track of the days. He was turning twelve; there was a huge celebration when a student turned twelve; that's when they were old enough to get their first assignment. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. My birthday was only two months after Damien's.

"And you know about his eligibility for an assignment, after said birthday?"

Another nod.

"Ash, when we hand out first assignments, we hand them out in pairs. It ensures accountability and safety. And, as Damien seems very...fond...of you, I have selected you to be his partner. Does that sound agreeable?"

Yes! Of course it did! Damien and I had wanted to work together on the assignments since we had first heard about it. The headmaster must have read my delight on my face, because he made a note on a piece of paper sitting on his desk.

"Great. Now..."

The drawer was slid open. Out came the tan folder, the clipboard, the pen and all the other items. He crossed his hands and leaned forward, mouth split open in a sinister grin that was all teeth.

"Let's begin."

...

I woke up in the infirmary with a pounding headache. The anesthetic smell invaded my nose, bring a fresh dart of pain.

"Ow," I mumbled.

Someone squeezed my shoulder.

"That was not careful, Ash."

I groaned, rolling away from the noise.

"Ash, I'm not kidding. That was the worst I've ever seen you after a session."

"I'm sure it wasn't that ba-"

"You were passed out on the floor with blood trickling out of your nose and ears. It was that bad."

"Meh."

"Ash!"

I rolled back over to face him. His face matched the worried levels of his tone. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Don't do that kicked puppy look. I'm fine, see."

I stood up on the bed despite Damien's protests, way quicker then I should have. I promptly vomited, falling face first towards the floor as I passed out.

As you can tell, I am very smooth.

When I opened my eyes to the infirmary for a second time that day, Damien was leaning over me, looking like a worried mum.

"Seriously Ash?"

I shrugged at him.

"No sleep plus pain meds? Damien, you should have seen that coming."

Damien shook his head at me, but at least now a small smile played across his lips.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Bull."

"Nope. I feel perfectly fine. Want me to prove it." I began to lift myself off the pillows.

"Ash, stop it." He pushed me rather firmly back down onto the blankets, "You don't have to lie to me goddammit."

He sounded so exasperated that I turned and looked at him. His face was taunted with worry.

"What?"

"I thought you were going to die."

Damien...I was at a loss for words. He looked so distraught. Had I actually been that bad? I remembered the pounding in my skull. I remembered feeling a capillary in my nose pop and blood start to slowly dribble out of my nose. I remembered the world slipping away as I lost consciousness. I didn't think I was that bad. But, for all I know, I could have been on the brink of death. I swallowed dryly at the thought. Damien seemed to mistake my silent realisation for confusion or something, because he shook his head.

"When I came into my father's office," he said slowly, voice soft and stifled, "You were lying on the ground, with a pool of blood around your head. You weren't moving; you were hardly breathing. And my father, my father was just sitting behind his desk. He didn't try to help. He didn't do _anything_. I had to go pick you up, carry you out of there. The blood was all over your face and your clothes. I could hardly feel you breathing. I was so...scared Ash. Scared that you were gone. That I…that I wouldn't get you back."

He let out a big breath, looking slightly embarrassed that he had said that. I felt something ache in my chest.

"Damien...I'm not going to die,"

He was silent, looking at the flaking wall. I had to lighten the heavy mood that had suddenly crowded the room.

"I'm not going to die," I said louder, sitting up under the covers, "because then who would be your partner for you assignments?"

A small smile rose of Damien's face as he turned back to me.

"We still might not-...what?"

He had stopped mid sentence at the smirk on my face. He studied my face.

"Ash…"

I couldn't help the grin that burst out.

"Guess who your assigned partner is!"

Damien laughed and pumped his fight in the air.

"Yes!"

He pulled me into a excited hug, and I hugged him back. I was so glad that we were working together, but I was also glad that the awkwardness was gone. All that was important now was that when I went on my first assignment, Damien would be right beside me, just like we'd always planned.

The dream was clawing at me before my eyes had even begun to close. I submitted and it pulled me under. What would it be tonight? If I had kept track properly, it should be the night I met Damien. I let out a small sigh of relief. This was one of my milder dreams in the cycle; I usually didn't wake up with a scream on my lips and sweat soaking my bed. I watched as my vision spiraled down to where my young form was sitting, alone on one of the benches littering the institute. My face was tear-stained and in my eight-year-old hand I had a tightly scrunched piece of orange paper. I remembered that slip. It meant that I was one reprimand from a lashing. It was only the second week into my stay here, and I was basically failing every class. Some, or more like most, kids had been here since they were three or four. They were all way more advanced than me, leaving me in the dust, trying to pick up basic concepts. I had nearly broken into tears so, so many times, but the headmaster's warning had come roaring back. So, I hadn't cried. These reprimands were all from failing classes. I remembered the feeling that had been settling on the bottom of my stomach. The feeling that I was ruining my one chance at a good life here.

"Um, hi."

I turned my gaze from my past self to look at little Damien, who had just sat down next to me. Past-me looked up at him and sniffled her nose.

"Hi-i-i."

"I'm Damien."

"I'm A-A-Ash."

"Why are you crying, Ash?"

A gasp from my past-self as she quickly wiped her face. The fear that Damien would tell someone struck me, even years into the future. I had been so frightened, petrified even. But, Damien's face had gone soft.

"Don't worry," he said quietly, "I won't tell."

He held up an orange slip.

"I'm kinda bad at this too."

Past-me stopped her frantic wiping and faced him, astonishment layering her features.

"You too?"

He nodded. I could remember what I thought next, clear as day. I had looked over Damien, taking in his slim body and near nonexistent muscles and realised something. We were both in the same boat. And maybe, we could help each other. Past-me and Damien sat in companionable silence, united by our failures. Finally, Past-me spoke up.

"Maybe we don't have to fail." I mouthed along with her, "Maybe...maybe we could work together and be better."

Damien nodded.

"We could train extra hard."

"And practice fight all the time."

"And we could go to library and study."

"I could help you with the sword-fighting. I'm really good at that."

"And I can help you with the chemistry stuff," Damien replied.

They shared a grin. Damien stuck out a hand.

"Shake on it."

Past-me paused for a second, but then gripped young Damien's hand.

"It's a deal, then."

"I'll see you at lunch? In the training rooms?"

"I don't know where those are."

"Don't worry, I'll show you now."

Damien grabbed Past-me's hand and pulled me in the direction of the training rooms. My being, or presence, or whatever the hell I was, stayed still, watching them jog off in the distance. I smiled sadly. Those first couple of weeks with Damien had been some of my happiest here. No cares, no worries, just helping each other to get by. My book-smarts, Damien's street-smarts; we thought we were invincible.

Suddenly, the hair on my arms rose. Icy cool wind blew on my back, making me shiver. I stiffened. Someone was behind me. I wanted to turn and look, but my movements were painfully slow. I caught a glimpse of lapping flames on a dark sleeve, before I began to wake up. I tried to stay asleep, tried to latch onto the dream and see my shadowy pursuer. It didn't work. I woke with a gasp, glancing around the pitch-black, silent room.

What the hell?

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	10. 10: Celestia

Hey Guys!

So glad to get some more reviews for the last chap! It really motivates me to keep writing. So, we've had a request to drop some hints about who this new, mysterious POV is...and I thought, why not!? So...

Hint One: The POV is a demigod, although not necessarily one you know yet.

Vague, I know, but I wouldn't want to give it away too easily! I'll put a new hint on each chapter the POV appears in.

Ok, so to answer some of the other questions, yes, you will see bits and pieces of the original seven, although they don't feature heavily. If you'd like to see their stories of what has happened in the eight or so years between this fic and 'A New Uprising', go check out supersassysnakeatingbadger, mah boi, who is currently working on one about Annie and Percy...but you'll have to wait and see. Now this fic is going to be 40 chapters long, with an epilogue. Flipping huge, I know. But I've had this idea for ages and ages and once I put pen to paper it kinda just kept expanding. I have more than half of the chapters done (and by done I mean written, not proofed and such), but I'm still writing, so suggestions could make a big impact on the plot (HINT HINT). Lol, seriously though, if you have any ideas, just tell me my bros. Open to suggestions.

Secondly, I've also been asked about how Ash's plot is related to Celestia and Jack's plot...for that you're going to have to just wait and see. But trust me, they are going to meet, and it is going to be interesting, I can tell you that.

Alrighty, I think that's all! Any more questions or suggestions, chuck them in or a comment or shoot me a PM.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-10-

Celestia

The infirmary was filled with light yellow and pale white hues. The bed sheets were white. The walls were a disgusting saffron. Every single piece of furniture or decor was some shade of citron or cream and it was driving me mad. The only other colour in the room was the deep ebony shade of Jack's hair, standing out in contrast with all the light colours. I shifted in the chair next to his bed. When I had first been showed in here, I was fine with the colours and the layout and the lingering smell of anaesthetic and numerous bright flowers. But it had been hours. And I was going a little stir-crazy. Jack slept peacefully on the bed, his calf already healed, just sleeping off the ambrosia. I was surprised at how quickly the wound had closed back up but Zack had assured me that it was normal and that he would be fine. Speaking of Zack…

He burst in through the double doors.

"Celestia!" he exclaimed, face, as ever, lit with joy, "How ya doing?"

"Good, Zack," I deadpanned for about the fifth time since I had gotten here.

An hour ago he had been in here asking me a heap of questions, but I think I had ticked him off with my 'I'm going to stab you if you don't shut up' vibes. Apparently, he was over that now. He came striding over and glanced down at Jack's face, examining him closely.

"He still hasn't woken up yet?"

"No. Clearly, he was just pretending to be asleep to avoid your annoying exuberance."

Ok, I didn't actually say that. But I was very close to. The lack of sleep was making it harder to internalise my inner commentary. And he deserved someone to be short with him.

"No, Zack, not yet." I sighed instead.

"So does that mean…"

I let the unfinished question hang in the air, before rolling my eyes.

"No. I told you already. I'm not leaving until he wakes up."

Zack pouted. He wanted me to go see this Chiron guy. He said that he's the director of the camp and will want to see me as soon as possible. But, as I had told him many times in our short time together, I wasn't leaving until Jack woke up. He was the only person here I knew, and the only person that held a glimmer of my trust. Even if it was a pretty faint glimmer. Until he woke up, I wasn't moving. Zack sighed heavily, and took a seat on a chair next to me.

"So," he began hesitantly, drawing out the word, "Been meaning to ask. How did you two meet?"

I regarded him out of the corner of my eye. Did he think Jack and I were…

"Jack stabbed me," I told him, mildly pleased to see his unsurprised expression.

"Yeah that sure sounds like Jack. Why, exactly?"

"Thought I was one of the empousai in the area. I was fighting them so and they were wearing the same crap as me, so made sense. He threw the knife, and I just didn't catch it with my hands."

Zack sighed, his face stony.

"Knew it was empousai," he muttered to himself.

Shoot. Was I not supposed to say that? No Zoe. No shadow-travelling. Jack hadn't mentioned anything about empousai...

"How many?"

"Three."

Another shake of the head.

"Look he saved my life," I told Zack, feeling like I had to defend his brother, "Without him I would be dead."

"And was that... this?" Zack asked, gesturing at Jack.

"No, that was the hoard of skeletons that ambushed us outside the border of your camp," I replied dryly, not trying to conceal the irritation in my voice, "Great security, by the way."

"How many?"

"Twenty-five, thirty? Kinda lost count."

Zack's eyes were wide, his face now drained of humour.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"But...but how did you beat that many? I mean, Jack's a pretty good fighter, and I'm sure you're great too, but that's a lot of skeletons."

"Yeah, it was."

But numbers had never been a problem before. Now Zack's face held some suspicion.

"Who are you descended from again?" he asked slowly, eyes narrowed and scanning over my frame.

"I never told you."

"Well, could you?"

"I'd think not."

"Does he know?" He gestured at his unconscious brother and I shrugged, a little smile alighting on my lips.

"The basics."

Zack stopped, infuriated by my vague answers. I smiled icily at him and he threw his hands into the air. "Fine. Don't tell me. I have no idea how you managed to fight them off."

Seemingly done with my attitude, Zack headed to the double doors. I breathed an internal sigh of relief. People like him were always so draining to be around. If I didn't know it, I wouldn't have picked him as Jack's brother, let alone twin. He was right to be suspicious, though. Anyone else would have been overwhelmed by those skeletons.

But I was not anyone else.

...

The fight against the skeletons had been going really well. Both Jack and myself were holding our own, and we even pulled off a wicked move where I had rolled over Jack's back, attacking the skeleton on his other side. It was easy to fight with him; like we had trained and fought many times before. It was exhilarating. But then, Jack had gotten stabbed. It was of no fault of his own. I saw it happening, the skeleton behind him, but was too far away to help. After he took out the skeleton that knifed him, I dashed over, putting distance between me and the rest of the remaining monsters. By the time I reached him, he was already on his back, grimacing up at the sky. I ran past, grabbing Jack's collar as I did, dragging him further into the woods, where I had a bit of space to work with. He kept twisting, trying to loosen my grip on him. He must have thought I was one of the skeletons.

"Knock it off," I muttered at him.

I then dropped him harder than I meant to against the trunk of a large tree, inducing painful groans.

"Crap, sorry."

I turned to the chasing army, preparing to fight. They were all charging between the trees, yellowed bones creaking and rattling. I heard Jack shift behind me, followed by more moans.

"Cewestaya."

Jack was trying to get up and help. Sweet, but not constructive. He had lost a lot of blood, and would probably hardly be able stand on his leg with the lacerated calf. Since the average human has 1.2-1.5 gallons of blood and after 30% blood loss, the subject becomes unconscious, he would only have to lose 0.4-0.5 gallons of blood before he passed out, and he looked like he was coming dangerously close to reaching that mark. He needed to stay down.

"Shut up Jack. I'm fine," I told him.

The skeletons had nearly reached me. About fifteen feet away, they started to come to a halt, forming a loose semicircle. I felt the calm I always feel before a big battle begin to settle over me. As the rest of the skeletons stopped, I waited. They didn't move.

"Come on then. Bring it on, you bony punks."

I flipped them off, hoping to spur some kind of reaction. It worked, and they began to plough forward. Reflecting back on it now, I don't know why. Did they recognise me flipping them off as an insult, or just saw it as an aggressive act. Anyway, I heard Jack mutter something; probably something about how I was going to get myself killed, but I cast it from my mind. I was focussing.

Eight feet away.

Watch the enemies. Look for weaknesses that can be exploited. How can you separate the group, reduce the number of swords swinging for your head? Look for the weak points.

Six feet away.

Big breaths. Loosen the muscles, free the mind. Slow your breathing, your heart-rate, your thoughts. Get ready to fight.

Three feet away.

A smile crept across my face. Feeling like showing off a bit, I turned to Jack, giving him a wink.

"Player One, ready to fight."

With a yell, I launched myself forward a couple steps, engaging with the incoming attacks, but also defending Jack. I let my instincts take over, my muscles reacting from memory. I blocked, countered, attacked, counter-attacked without even processing it. My senses were heightened; I could practically feel the skeletons all around me without looking. My attacks were precise, my footwork was flawless.

I was in my element.

The fighting was a blur, but soon I had dispatched them all, leaving only floating flecks of coal coloured dust. I breathed heavily, muscles burning. Damn it had felt good. It had been a while since I had had a good fight like that. Then I had seen Jack through the drifting remnants. His eyes were unfocused, but his face will full of awe. And his hands were full of blood. He was bleeding out. I swore and jogged over, dropping to his side and scanning his face, trying to get a read on his condition. His eyes kept drifting from mine.

"Are you okay? Jack?"

His eyes rolled back into his skull, and he slumped into the tree. I checked his pulse. It was faint. He had lost too much blood. It was staining the dirt around him, which in turn was probably making its way into his wound.

Perfect.

I needed to get him into the camp. Hopefully, they would have a healer, or at least some medical supplies. I grabbed his arm, pulling him towards me, and he slumped against my chest. I placed one of his arms over my shoulder and stood up, grunting as I tried to lift his insentient body. Jack's feet dragged through the fallen leaves lining the forest floor as I began to move. He was absurdly heavy; every time I stumbled, I came close to dropping him.

"Hey!" I yelled out desperately, "Hey, somebody help! My friend is injured! Is anyone there?"

I kept trudging up the hill, hoping I was heading in the right direction. Without Jack, I had no idea where the entrance was, let alone how to get in. That's when Zack had found me, not that I knew it was him at the time. He stepped out from behind a tree, holding a spear point at my chest. I barely managed not to impale myself on it.

"Who the hell are-"

"-Not important. He's dying."

Zack's gaze drifted to Jack, and his eyes widened in recognition.

"Jack?" he asked me, fear underlying his voice.

I nodded and he quickly rushed over, dropping the spear in favour for Jack's other arm. Together we pulled him to the top of the hill, Zack leading the way.

"Here," he grunted, pulling me towards a half collapsed gateway. It had Camp Half-Blood engraved in it, written in an old text that I recognised as Greek. Despite the circumstances, satisfaction filled me. I was here. Finally, after all these years, I was here. Camp Half-Blood. We dragged him though the gateway and suddenly, a whole camp unfolded in front of my eyes. I only had time to take in a shimmering lake, a couple dozen houses and a large training arena before I was hauled along, drawing stares as we ran.

"We got it," Zack told someone as they stepped forward to help. Finally, we reached the double doors I now knew as the infirmary's entrance, bursting inside. We laid Jack on an empty bed, his face growing ashen. Zack raced off, jumping through a side door.

"Do you have a doctor?" I yelled, fumbling with a cloth left on the bedside table, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Zack dashed back in, medical equipment.

"I am the doctor. I'm Zack, by the way."

While I was processing this, he quickly set to work, giving Jack some ambrosia and cleaning out the dirt and blood-crusted wound, all with precision care. Soon, Jack's calf was stitching itself back together. Zack stood back, surveying his work.

"Keep an eye on him. I've gotta go tell Chiron that my idiot of a brother's back."

Then he was gone, back out the swinging double doors, leaving me with an unconscious Jack and no idea what I was doing. I took a seat next to his bed, trying to figure out what to do next. I was here, but I had no idea what exactly would happen next. I was relying on Jack for that; who was who, what and what not to do. But, he wasn't exactly capable of doing that right now. So, I decided, I would wait until he woke up before going anywhere. No matter how long it took.

...

And here I was. Zack had come back after a couple minutes. He told me that Chiron wanted to see me. I said I wasn't going. He left again. He had come back a couple more times, checking on Jack's condition. Back to the present, and he still hadn't woken up. My hands shook as I wiped my tired eyes, and I tightened them into fists, placing them on my knees. Adrenaline was still in my system and I was jittery. It was true what I said to Jack earlier, when he asked if I was a daughter of Ares. I hate fighting and war. They are pointless wastes of life, and I wanted no part in them. But, if it came to it, I would fight, like I did then. And my body would betray me, pumping endorphins through my nerves, making me feel alive. And I would enjoy it, for that short time. The adrenaline rush, the feeling of triumph over my enemies. But, now, when it was all over, I just felt empty. I always did. Without the action, without the bloodlust, I was bored. As much as I hated it, I always craved another fight. Like now; I felt on edge. I took a big breath, trying to steel my nerves. I was safe now. It was fine.

* * *

 _The target was sitting in a cushioned chair, next to an occupied hospital bed. Her legs were jumping up and down and her fingers were tapping on her knees. She was probably still winding down from her battle with the skeletons that had ambushed her and her injured companion. I had watched it happen. And, after all these years, her skills still amazed me. She was fluent, violent, precise. She had lost none of her talent. I took a sip of my coffee, readjusting the high-beam binoculars. It was interesting. It seemed this was the location that she had been heading to. But, why here? We would have to gather some intel. I picked up my pencil, preparing to take notes. It looked like the boy was waking up._

* * *

"Ow…my head."

"Stay down. The ambrosia's still wearing off. You'll be right in a couple minutes."

"Where...are we in the camp?"

"Yeah."

"Zack?"

"Yep."

Jack flopped back down onto his pillow. He rubbed his hands over his face, closing his eyes. He inhaled slowly, letting it out through his nose.

"Is he here?"

"Not right now, no. I think I pissed him off."

Jack chuckled lightly. "Good, that makes two of us. Have you seen the camp yet?"

"Uh, no. I was waiting for you to wake up."

"Why?"

"I don't know where anything is here. You do."

"Yeah, right. Sorry for being unconscious then."

"You're forgiven." I smirked.

Jack sat up, pushing forward the covers. He looked at me, his blue eyes glittering mischievously.

"Let's give you an intro then, hey."

"Zack said-"

"Screw what Zack said. Let's go."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up with only a slight wobble. He spun, holding out his arms.

"See. I'm fine."

I rolled my eyes at him, but stood up too. Truth be told, I was hardly containing my excitement as Jack strolled to the double doors. But, before he could open them, they were opened from the outside. Zack's golden hair popped up.

"Nope. No, get back in bed."

"Zack I'm fine–"

"–I don't care. Sit back down."

Zack stepped forward, forcing Jack back a pace.

"You sit back down on that goddamn bed while I go and get Chiron. I had a feeling you were about to do something stupid, so I came back. Looks like I was right. Celestia, you'll come with me."

I glanced awkwardly between the two brothers.

"Actually I think I'd rath–"

"–You're not staying here," Zack cut in, superiority all over his face and lacing his voice, "My patient. My rules. You two would ruin all my hard work on your stupid injuries."

Jack scoffed as I contained a scathing remark. Zack turned his furious gaze to him. Jack raised an eyebrow, and Zack narrowed his eyes. There seemed to be a silent argument happening between them, one that I couldn't pick up on. Maybe it was a twin thing? Finally, Zack, raised his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fine," he ground out, "She can stay. But I'm still getting Chiron."

Our eyes followed him as he left out the doors. I gave a low whistle.

"You two really hit it off."

"Yeah. We don't exactly get along that well."

I remembered Zack's worried expression when he saw that Jack was injured, or his constant checking up on him. I shook my head. "He was worried."

Jack pursed his lips, but didn't say anything. I sensed that things went a bit deeper than that.

"So, who's Chiron?" I asked instead, trying to change the topic.

"He's our director of the camp," Jack replied, "He'll just want to meet you, ask you some questions and then welcome you to the camp. You are staying, right?"

Was I? I hadn't really thought that far ahead. My plan was just get to Camp Half-Blood. Now that I was here…

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm staying."

"You'll probably be in the Athena cabin."

"Okay. How do the cabins work?"

"Well, generally, you stay in the cabin that you are most dominant in. Sometimes you get families that want to stay together, and live in same cabin, but mostly the families move to the Roman camp, Camp Jupiter."

There was a Roman camp? I had never heard anything about it. But, that seemed like a bit too big of a topic for our short time-frame. Zack could be back soon, Chiron in tow.

"So what cabin are you in?"

"Apollo."

"Seriously?"

Jack regarded me. "It's my dominant heritage. Remember..."

Right. Not Hades. But it was hard to imagine Jack fitting in with all those bleached blondes. I could hardly see him sticking around very long. I was about to say something when the doors swung back open. Zack stomped in, triumphant look on his face. Behind him rolled in a middle-aged man in a wheelchair. His face was thoughtful as he considered the room. This must be Chiron. He gave Jack a stern look.

"Mr. Herondale," he said quietly, "You're back."

"I'm not staying long," Jack replied, his voice flippant.

I squinted at him. Not ten seconds ago he was speaking about the camp like he was a long-term resident. What was he talking about? While Jack's answer had surprised me, it apparently hadn't come as a shock to Chiron, who simply nodded.

"You know you're always welcome, Jack."

"Thank you, Chiron."

Chiron wheeled his chair so that he was facing me. He gave a warm smile.

"Celestia, isn't it? Pleasure to meet you."

He rolled forward, extending a hand. I took it, his hands leathery in mine.

"My name is Chiron," he told me, releasing my hand, "I am the director and head counsellor for Camp Half-Blood. May I ask what brought you here?"

"I'm here to learn about my parents," I told him, registering the interested look on Jack's face.

"Well, I hope we can help you with that. Will you be staying here with us, long-term?"

"Yeah, I was thinking so."

"Let's get you settled in then. Which cabin was that, Celestia?"

"Athena."

Chiron turned to Zack.

"Could you give Celestia the tour, Zack, and introduce her to Annabeth. I want to have a private word with your brother."

Zack smirked, and inclined his head. Fun. A tour with Zack. I met eyes with Jack, who gave me a look of pity, before miming that I should run. I rolled my eyes at him, and followed Zack out the door. It was time to take a better look at this camp.

...

It was big, I'd give it that. Stepping out of the infirmary, the view hit me straight away. My eyes couldn't seem to take it all in. The first thing that jumped out at me was the lake, its glittering blue striking in contrast to the deep green of the woods that surrounded the camp. After that, the cabins, as Chiron had called them, all looking so different and eccentric in their own way. Then, what I took for the training grounds; small arenas, targets, workout and scenario training equipment. I could see a couple people mock fighting from where I stood. The other buildings then made their appearance; a large, multi-storied one to our right, what I believed was a stable or barn, and what looked to be a small shop or something. It was almost exactly like my parents had described it. The only difference was that the people were all at activities, not trying to talk with each other as much.

"Come on then."

Zack had already set off towards the baby blue multi-storied house and I picked up the pace to catch up. We stepped onto a polished wooden porch, walking past wooden chairs and dangling wind-chimes that tinkled softly as we passed.

"This," Zack told me, turning so he was walking backwards, "is the Big House. Imaginatively named, I know. This is where Chiron, guests and any unclaimed demigods stay. It's also where we host our councillor meetings, get togethers and occasionally, mad parties. Shall we go in and take a look inside?"

I followed him in as he brushed through the large wooden doors.

"Evening, Seymour," Zack called out from the next room.

Before I could begin to ponder who Seymour was, my question was answered. His large, canine teeth curled into a form of a grin as his eyes followed my progress across the room.

"Uh...Zack?"

"Talking panther head. Pretty cool, right? He's Chiron's. Don't worry, he won't bite. Unless you get too close, that is. He mainly just growls when you try to play pac-man."

Zack gave an impish grin that I glared at. We passed into the next room, which had a large ping-pong table taking up its center. Two teenagers stood at either end, paddles in hands. They seemed to be engaged in an argument.

"Out," the one closest to us exclaimed, "The outest out I've ever seen."

The girl shook her head.

"Tim, it was so in. You're just a sore loser."

"Lydia. Rematch. Now."

We walked past. Both of the teenagers, who I assumed to be demigods, gave Zack a hello. All I got were some suspicious stares. We moved through one last doorway, stepping out onto a back patio, similar to the one out the front.

"That's basically it. I mean, there are some rooms upstairs, but you wouldn't wanna see those. You're a second generation demigod, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, if we didn't know who your parents were, you would stay here until we figured it out. But, since you already know your dominant trait, we'll just chuck you straight in your cabin. Athena, right?"

"Yeah."

"Cabin Six, then. Cool. You want to head over?"

"Fine."

I followed Zack as we walked to my cabin where I would be staying; Cabin Six. I tried to take in all the sights as we walked, but Zack set a fast pace, so I couldn't process much. Orange shirts like the one Zack was wearing passed by, suspicious and wary gazes following our path. The CHB on the shirts must stand for Camp Half-Blood, I realised. Made sense. Zack stopped in front of what I assumed was my cabin.

Hades, it was breathtaking. At a first glance, and to an inexperienced eye, it looked almost plain. It had grey walls, that I could tell were artistically painted brick that looked cool and were smooth to the touch. Above the arched doorway sat an intricately carved owl. I remembered from my dad's stories that the owl was Athena's patron animal, so this was even more obviously her cabin. I could see plain, but fitting, white curtains, covering the windows, and I imagined that they would filter just enough light in to be perfect for reading. Zack seemed to have noticed my excited reaction, because he shook his head.

"Definitely a child of Athena. You all look so amazed when you see the cabin. It's really not that great. The only thing I like about it is the library full of medical journals."

I snorted. Like he would know. I brushed past him, walking up to the intricate door. I heard Zack come up behind me as I opened it. And boy, was I not disappointed. It was gorgeous. Inside, desks overflowing with plans, diagrams and 3-D models clustered the room, beds pushed to the sides in favour for the workbenches. Books were splayed with extreme care along nearly every surface in sight.

"Yo, Athena kids! Where you at?" Zack hollered into the space, and I resisted the urge to shush him.

A young head popped out of a doorway to our left, curled, black hair spilling into the room.

"Mum's in here," the little girl said, gesturing behind her, "She's working on an arci-acrhi-arti...arc-i-tect-u-al project."

"Thanks, Bianca," Zack replied, ruffling the girl's hair as she walked past. She grinned, her grey eyes sparkling. Seemed like everyone knew Zack in this camp. We walked through the open doorway, Zack rapping the doorframe as he walked in.

"Annabeth?"

A woman with loosely curled, dirty-blonde hair spun around in a wheeled office chair. Her face split into a grin as she took in Zack and me loitering slightly behind him.

"New camper?"

Zack nodded, nudging me forward slightly. I glared at him. I did know how to interact with people without prompting. Annabeth stood from her detailed blueprints, stepping forward and extending a hand. I shook it, her palm battle-creased in mine. I wondered how many wars she had fought, and lived through.

"I'm Celestia."

"I haven't heard that name in a long time. And you look just like them."

She must have been referring to my parents.

"I'm Annabeth. As you've probably guessed."'

I smiled at her, surprised at her welcoming attitude. She seemed to be the only one in this camp who wasn't openly suspicious of me.

"Do you want to go see our library? We have millions of books that I'm sure you would be interested in having a look at."

A library? Millions of books? Who in Hades wouldn't want that? Annabeth winked at me, starting to head back out the door. I followed her, slightly in awe. This was...this was simply amazing. I hadn't expected Camp Half-Blood to be this … awesome. Training grounds, personal libraries. This place was astounding. Zack cleared his throat behind us, causing us to stop.

"Sorry, Annabeth." He interjected. "We're actually doing the camp tour right now."

Annabeth shook her head, smile playing across her face.

"Of course," she told Zack.

"I'll give you the tour once you get back." She said to me. "You're going to love it, I can tell."

Once outside, Zack left me to my own devices, pointing out the major landmarks I should visit, and where to get my stuff before completely ditching me. He ran over to a dark-haired girl who was training a group of kids, wrapping her in a hug from behind and kissing her lightly on the cheek, speaking quickly before jogging off somewhere, so I set off where he had pointed me. Despite the light hostility around the camp and the apparent ditching of my guide, I agreed with Annabeth.

I think I was going to like it here.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	11. 11: Jack

Hey Guys!

Prophecy time! Have fun deciphering this one.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-11-

Jack

"Jack this is the final time I'm telling you this."

"Chiron I swear-"

"-No, Jack, you said that last time. And you still left. This is the last straw. No more solo hunts."

"But I'm getting work done!"

"What work Jack? You can't kill every single monster there is. I know this is to do with your father-"

"-Shut up."

"Jac-"

"-It has nothing to do with my father, and I will continue to hunt as I please, Chiron."

Chiron ran a hand over his face, exasperation clear. It made him look older, more vulnerable, that expression. But it did nothing to loosen the clinched knot of anger in my stomach. This was not about my father. I was doing this for everyone; demigods and mortals alike. Every monster I killed, was one less monster that could people in harm's way. And my blades made sure they stayed dead. I tuned back into what Chiron was saying. Something about worried, bunk empty, no note, could have died. Blah blah blah. Always the same speech. Finally, he seemed to realise I wasn't listening anymore. He stopped mid-sentence, simply looking at me.

"You're going to get yourself killed one day, Jack," he said softly, "I don't want to be the one who has to bury you next to your father."

With that, he turned around and rolled out the doors. They swung shut, and when he was out of eyesight, I turned and kicked the bed, hard enough to jar my foot. I let out a string of curse words under my breath, running my hands through my hair and pulling it tight.

That wasn't fair. How could he mention my father like that; like some kind of manipulative tool?

I let my breath out slowly, releasing my built up anger. It left a sick feeling in my stomach. He was wrong. I was helping people. I needed to get my mind off what he had said; I would think about that later. Celestia. Where was she? Somewhere with Zack, but knowing him, he had probably ditched her somewhere to fend for herself and run off with his girlfriend. She'd be lucky if he even got around to her cabin. I should probably go find her.

"Seriously?"

I jerked my head up, surprised. It was Zack. Speak of the devil, I guess.

"Again. Going off hunting, again."

"Could you not? I've already heard it from Chiron, okay? Where's Celestia?"

"No, not okay. You need to stop. I get it, you're the reason dad died. You feel guilty. But you are putting the camp at risk every time you go on your little _missions_. Stop, or I'll make you stop."

 _"I'm_ the reason dad died?" I hissed, jumping up, anger refuelled, "It was your idea to go find him, Zack."

"And why were we there in the first place? Oh, right, because you were a spoiled little brat who wouldn't take no for an answer."

That was it. I launched myself at him, swinging for his head. I punched him hard in the cheek and he retaliated, sucker-punching me in the guts. It drove the air from my lungs, leaving me gasping for breath. I doubled over as I recovered, before lunging toward him and spear-tackling him to the ground. We tussled; punching, scratching, kicking, pulling, headbutting. I couldn't remember the last time we had fought like this, no holding back. Zack kicked me in the ribs so hard I could practically feel the bruise forming. Seeing an opening in the flying arms and legs, I dove forward, rolling Zack over and driving him into the tiled floor of the infirmary. I flipped him over and wrapped my legs around his neck, maneuvering his arms so that I had him in a lock. I squeezed, feeling triumphant as I felt Zack's muscles strain and heard his pained gasp.

"Apologize," I ground out, giving his arm a sharp tug, "do it right now and I'll let you go."

"Bite me," Zack spat.

I leaned back, with the intent to dislocate his shoulder. That should teach him not to blame me. It was his fault, not mine. His.

Suddenly, a scream came from outside the infirmary. I released Zack from my lock as we scrambled to our feet. We exchanged glances of fear. Last time we had heard screams like that… we both made for the door, fight momentarily forgotten. But I couldn't get rid of the sick feeling lingering in my guts as we both rushed out into the bright sunlight, heading towards the screams.

...

We raced down the paths, following the other people running towards the sound. I saw with a bittersweet realisation that everyone had stopped to snatch a weapon. We all still were recovering from the last attack and no one even walked to the bathroom unarmed anymore. It was over by the training grounds that everyone started to slow their pace a little. Could it have just been a training injury? It hadn't sounded like it. People seemed to realise their surroundings, putting away swords and starting to walk back to what they were doing. I turned to the Hermes girl next to me. I was about to ask her what she had heard when she noticed me and took a step back. She glared at me, and then set off at a brisk pace towards the cabins. Guess things were back to normal then. Suddenly, another scream sounded, and everyone turned back to the noise.

That didn't sound like a training injury.

"Hey! Hey! Somebody help! Something's happening!"

Was that?

Oh crap, it was.

I sprinted with everyone else across the training grounds, heading towards where Celestia was kneeling over a convulsing girl I vaguely recognised. Celestia looked up and met my eye, relief apparent.

"She was fine a few second ago and then she just started screaming and then this happened. Is...is this normal, Jack?"

I shook my head, dropping down next to the girl. I pressed my fingers to her forehead, trying to feel for what was wrong. There was nothing I could sense that could be causing this. Without warning, I was flung backwards by a powerful force. The small crowd that had gathered stepped back, no one offering a hand. I rolled my eyes and jumped back up.

"Quick, we need some people to hold down her arms and legs, make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

No response. Just stares.

"Oh for Gods' sake, do what he says," yelled Celestia, pinning one of the girl's arms to the ground.

Two boys stepped forward hesitantly. I gestured at them to hurry. They grabbed a leg each, holding the thrashing girl down.

"Jack what's happening?" Celestia muttered, worry in her eyes.

"I wish I knew," I replied, more to myself than to her.

For a couple more seconds we tried to keep the girl still as she bucked and twisted. Then, with a final drawn out scream, she went limp. Everyone was silent as we watched for movement. I was about to reach forward and check her vitals when her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Hello."

Her voice was not what I expected. It sounded like a young girl. She sat up slowly, pushing of our grips with surprising strength. I looked to Celestia, expecting to see relief. Instead, she looked alarmed.

"That's not Kenzie," I heard her whisper, and my blood turned cold.

We both looked at Kenzie, who had fixed us with a wide smile.

"Correct," she said slowly, "I am not the Kenzie you know. Although, she fought admirably."

The sound of many weapons being drawn flooded my ears.

"Now, now," Not-Kenzie continued, hands raised in a placating gesture, "There's no need for that. I am simply here to deliver a message."

Kenzie's body trembled and her eyes rolled back into her skull. A ghostly green aura began to glow around her. Everyone took a few hesitant steps back. What in Hades?

"Everyone look out!"

Annabeth came hurtling through the crowd, sword in hand. She came to a halt when she saw Kenzie hovering a couple inches off the ground, head lolling wildly.

"Not again," Annabeth whispered, dragging me back with a hand, before grabbing Celestia's shoulder, "Everyone, quiet! We're getting another Great Prophecy."

The noise jumped up almost instantly. I felt my jaw fall open. We hadn't had a Great Prophecy since Gaia's attack. Why now? My gaze was drawn to Celestia, who was staring resolutely at Kenzie's face. Could it have something to do with her? Annabeth shushed us and we all went quiet. Kenzie was now a couple feet off the ground and had stopped shaking. Her eyes rolled back towards us, but they were a glowing, fluorescent green. With a voice like gravel, she began.

 _"Two demigods of the second generation."_

 _"Called upon to halt Chaos' regeneration."_

 _"Fire to cast a glowing light."_

 _"And the darkness of the deepest night."_

 _"Destroy the heart before Midsummer's Eve."_

 _"Two will enter, one will leave."_

All of sudden, the glowing green diminished, and Kenzie drifted back down to land lightly on her feet.

"Take heed of my warning, demigods." She smiled sadly, meeting Celestia's eyes, and then mine. "It's the only one I'll give."

Kenzie collapsed as the spirit left her and the crowds became a frenzy. I caught snippets of conversations as I rushed to where Celestia was kneeling next to Kenzie's body. A Great Prophecy. Chaos? And Midsummer's Eve. That was just over a month away. What did it all mean?

Celestia was helping Kenzie sit up, a supporting hand on her back. Kenzie had both hands pressed to her temples.

"Are you okay?"

I laid a hand on her knee, feeling for where the pain was. It was just a slight lingering headache. By the looks of it, whatever had possessed her hadn't left a trace.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. What just happened?"

The problem was, I had absolutely no idea.

...

"Chaos? Chiron this is bad. We need to mobilise a trio for a quest! There's nothing else we can do. If he were to rise...it would just be the end of everything!"

Conner sat down, having made his point. We were all seated in the auditorium, discussing the prophecy. I sat on the far right side, Celestia shifting next to me and Kenzie sitting with her knees up against her chest on her other side. We were all anxiously waiting Chiron's decision. Everything had happened so fast after Kenzie was back on her feet. Annabeth had herded the crowds into the auditorium and someone else had run the Big House to get Chiron. Now we were listening to all the heard councillors takes on the problems. So far, it was unanimous; we needed to send three demigods on a quest to make sure that Chaos didn't rise.

Chaos.

I still couldn't wrap my head around that. He was one of the primordial Gods; one of the first beings of creation. What did he want with us, and why now? And, more importantly, how was he regenerating, exactly? Those were just some of the major questions going around.

"Ok," Chiron said, silencing the crowd, "I agree. This threat requires a quest."

The crowd burst into conversation again.

"Quest?" Celestia murmured to me.

"When you get a prophecy, it usually means that someone needs to go on a quest to get something, or save someone, or kill something." I explained.

"Why not just send the whole camp?"

"It's bad luck. We only send three."

"...Right, makes sense. Well how do you choose?"

"We don't choose, the prophecy does. That's what Chiron's going to do now; figure out who the quest needs."

Celestia pursed her lips, watching the Athena kids crowd around Chiron, bombarding him with theories about their interpretations and who the prophecy could be talking about. Finally, they seemed to come to a conclusion. Annabeth stepped forward.

"We would like to ask everyone to, _calmly_ , give their interpretations of the prophecy. Please, raise your hand if you have a theory."

No one did. Nobody wanted to be the bearer of bad news. Annabeth sighed.

"Okay then. Halt Chaos' regeneration. That part's at least pretty obvious. Chaos is rising."

Chattering broke out again. Celestia leaned over.

"Chaos? They don't seriously mean the Chaos I think they mean, do they?"

"I sure hope not."

From the look on her face that wasn't exactly the answer she was looking for. But, I wasn't exactly in a consoling mood. Why? Why would he rise now? Everyone fell silent again, looking at Annabeth.

"So who do we send?"

A random voice in the crowd called, backed by others. Before I could stop her, Kenzie stood up.

"You should send me."

Her voice cut through the ruckus. A heavy silence fell as everyone gazed at her, waiting for her to continue. She cleared her throat, looking ill at ease with all the attention, kind of hypocritical for a child of Aphrodite.

"My name is Kenzie Lovelace and I am a daughter of Aphrodite. The spirit that delivered the prophecy chose to speak through me. I volunteer for the quest."

Uproar. Questions of who in Hades Kenzie was, what had delivered the prophecy, whether it could be trusted, who would be the best pick for the quest flew around the echoing area, turning them all into a collective muddle of sound. Annabeth walked calmly over to us, eyes flinty. She stopped in front of us, looking mainly at Celestia.

"You three were the target of the spirit." She told us. "Meet Chiron and I in the Big House once this meeting is dismissed."

My stomach dropped. We were in trouble. Celestia glanced at me, her face conveying her confusion.

"Bad?"

"Very bad."

...

"You haven't exactly made the best start at this camp, have you, Celestia?"

She was sitting next to me, examining her fingernails, seeming cool now that she was in the presence of authority. Chiron had wheeled himself behind his desk and was sitting forward, hands clasped together. Annabeth was standing to his right, leaning against the wall with a thoughtful, but not exactly happy, expression. I felt like a kid in trouble with the principal.

Which, I guess I kind of was.

"Do you know why the spirit targeted you?"

We all shook our heads. Had it really targeted us? I hadn't really noticed. Guess I was more focussed on the ominus green light and stuff.

"Do you have any idea what the prophecy meant?"

Annabeth this time, gazing at us imploringly.

"Yes."

I looked at Celestia in surprise. Annabeth smiled at her, seemingly pleased. She gestured for her to go on.

"Chaos, for whatever reason, is rising from his dormancy. Two demigods are needed to stop him. Both of them second generation. One with...with theoretical control over fire, and the other with theoretical power of darkness. Maybe not the actual powers, but some kind of symbolistic representation of them? Either way, they have to find a heart, whether literal or metaphorical, that I'm assuming is the key to Chaos rising, and destroy it before Midsummer's Eve."

She paused, looking around the room.

"One will live. One will die."

Annabeth nodded.

"That's what I got too."

I glanced between the two Athena girls, surprised that they had picked that much up. I hadn't had the foggiest.

"That's not all."

We all turned to Celestia.

"It's three demigods a quest, right?" she asked, directing her question to Chiron.

"Yes, that is generally what we do, why-"

"-We are your three demigods."

My heart skipped a beat. What was she talking about? Apparently I wasn't the only one who was confused. Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

"What's your reasoning?"

"I'm a second generation demigod, daughter of a daughter of Hephaestus. I am fire. Jack is descended from a daughter of Hades. He is darkness. And Kenzie was the one that the spirit chose to appear to, so she has a role to play in this too."

Annabeth's face looked pained, but she nodded.

"Celestia, who were your parents?" Chiron asked softly, and I saw Annabeth's eyes sadden.

I looked across to Celestia. What did this have to do with anything? Celestia raised her chin.

"Malcolm Pace and Nyssa Barrera."

Chiron and Annabeth both looked away. Celestia glanced between them.

"What?"

"Malcolm was my brother." Annabeth replied, looking distraught. "We met you when you were only about three and half, Celestia. And after they...after Lycaon's attack we tried to find you, but we couldn't. Where were you?"

Celestia's face was patterned with shock, but she quickly disguised it.

"I made do," she replied, not answering the question.

After a few more seconds of Chiron and Annabeth staring at Celestia, I cleared my throat.

"So, we questing or not?"

My question seemed to stump them.

"Are you sure, Celestia, that you are the descendant of Hephaestus that is chosen?"

"Positive."

"And you, Jack? Do you accept this quest?"

I stopped myself before replying. How fast was I willing to jump into this? I glanced at Celestia and Kenzie sitting either side of me. Thought about my life. I sighed internally. Too damn fast.

"I'm in."

Chiron turned to Kenzie.

"And you, Kenzie?"

She took a shaky breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm in."

"Okay I guess you're it then," said Annabeth, walking past us, "We'll tell everyone tomorrow. But first things first, we need to figure out where this 'heart' is. Any ideas?"

We all shook our heads. We were really getting off to a great start at this whole quest thing.

"Well, if this is a heart for Chaos, it has to be pretty powerful, right? Would there be, I don't know, signs or something?"

"Good idea, Kenzie. We'll look into it. Chiron, do we have anyone who could elaborate a bit more on this prophecy for us? We really don't know all that much."

"I'll chat with some old friends," Chiron replied, wheeling out from behind his desk, "Celestia, Jack, Kenzie. I hope you realise how dangerous this will be. I want you to prepare yourselves. I wish...I wish we could send someone more experienced with you, but it looks like you are the three the prophecy wants. I'll call you back here when we have a bit more information."

We all nodded, solemned by his words. He was right. If this was Chaos, as in 'The Chaos', then this would be more than dangerous. It would be practically suicidal. He rolled past us into the next room, and I took it as a dismissal. I led Celestia and Kenzie out of the Big House.

"So, what now?"

"I guess we wait until Chiron calls us back?"

"Well I don't know about you," Celestia broke in cheerily, "but I have a library to explore."

"The one in the Athena cabin?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I know that library like the back of my hand."

Celestia raised her eyebrows at me.

"What?"

"Well, I just didn't really take you for a reading person, that's all."

I felt mildly offended. I am one of the only 'reading people' in this camp. How dare she.

"I'll have you know I am one of the only consistent, non-Athena descended visitors to that library."

"Right. Okay. What about you Kenz?"

Kenzie shrugged.

"I'll head down to the training grounds, I guess. Gotta buff up for this quest."

Smiling, she gave a quick wave goodbye and then headed off in that direction, leaving me with Celestia.

"What about you?"

I thought it over.

"What about I come do some research with you, in the library?"

"Sure. Would help to know what we're fighting. Let's go find out more about this Chaos guy and what in Tartarus he wants with us."

I followed her as we started moving towards the Athena cabin.

...

"Oh. My. Gods."

Celestia's face was completely priceless. She gazed around the library, face child-like with wonder. She looked much less gruff when she was awestruck. And, honestly, I had to agree with her. The high-columned ceilings stretched feet into the air, arched majestically over our heads. The whole library had a deep oak colouring to it, giving it an old, mystic feel. Rows and rows of books lined the shelves and littered the small benches scattered across the room.

"This is just the first floor."

Celestia looked at me, a huge grin on her face.

"Seriously?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to head over to where the books on primordials are. Have a look around."

I left her to roam around, honestly expecting her to squeal. She looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. I walked up the stairs, reaching the shelf where our tomes on primordials were kept, running a finger along the spines, scanning for any about or even just relating to Chaos. I found a couple that might have some information, sliding them out gently and making a pile in my arms. I stepped slowly back down the spiral staircase, keeping an eye out for Celestia. Noticing her curly, dark blonde hair over by the more recent additions, I started over. She was drifting a finger along the spines, almost exactly mimicking the motion I had made just minutes ago. I smiled a little. She heard me behind her and turned around, so I lifted the books, inclining my head at one of the desks.

"Shall we?"

Celestia rolled her eyes, taking the top book off my pile and walking over to the table.

"' _In the Beginning, They Were Here'_...ok not ominous at all."

"Well it's kind of true." I told her, taking the seat on the other side. "They were the first… well the first anything in creation. Do you know the story?"

Celestia nodded.

"Isn't it that Chaos was the first...I guess state of the universe. Then bits of him collected and they formed Gaia the earth, Ouranos the sky, Pontus the seas and Tartarus."

I was impressed. She had nailed it.

"Then, later, other children of his were formed; Nyx the night, Erebos the darkness and Akhlys, who ruled over Misery and Poison." I told her.

Celestia frowned.

"And, what did you call them? Primortals?"

"Primordials. Slightly different, but yeah, same meaning; before mortals. But, that's about all I know, hence..."

I gestured at the books. Celestia settled down into her chair, resting the book on her knees. I pulled a book of the pile, flipping it so I can see its title. I groaned loudly. It was in Latin.

"What?"

"It's in Latin. Who can read Latin? Dead people?"

Celestia extended a hand.

"...What?"

"The book, dummy."

"But it's in Latin."

"Yes, I heard the first time. I can read Latin."

I couldn't stop the laugh escaping my mouth. Celestia glared at me.

"Wait, seriously? Say something in Latin."

She smirked.

"Exorcizamus te. Omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potest-"

"-Wait, hold up, isn't that the exorcism rite from Supernatural?"

Celestia stopped mid-sentence.

"Yes," she replied guiltily, "but I can still read Latin."

No way. She watched Supernatural? I honestly thought I was the only one.

"So you watch Supernatural."

"No I just googled the exorcism rites on my Saturday off."

The sarcasm was plain as day on her face. She leaned forward and took the book from my hands replacing it with _'In the Beginning, They Were Here'._ She settled back into her chair, her lips moving as she translated the texts in her head. She caught me watching her and frowned at me.

"What?"

"You're awesome. I-I mean that you can do the...the Latin thing is awesome. Not that your not awesome, I mean... I think I'm going to shut up now."

Celestia smirked at me and then went back to translating. I ran a hair through my hair and started on the first passage.

This was going to be fun, I could just tell.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	12. 12: Ash

Hey Guys!

Sorry for a bit of a late post, I haven't been very well and slept for most of the day yesterday. Hope you enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-12-

Ash

* * *

I readjusted Damien's leather breastplate, pulling it straight so it fell flat across his chest.

"Better?"

"Better."

Silence followed as we looked at each other.

"You ready?"

Damien shook his head, dark hair falling across his forehead. I tucked it back up into his cowl. He needed to look professional. Older. Mature. I took a big breath.

"Okay, I'm going to go get my seat. You got this."

Damien smiled nervously. He was really worried about this ceremony. Even after I reassured him a heap of times that nothing would go wrong. Damien's eyes went stony as he looked at something behind me. I turned. The headmaster, his father, was striding towards him. Damien's face conveyed his anger.

"Don't," I cautioned.

Damien pursed his lips, but his irritated look passed. The headmaster walked right up to us, casting a long shadow.

"Are you ready for the ceremony, Damien?"

He nodded, gaze now determined. Internally, I chuckled to myself. Nothing fueled Damien like spite for his father. The headmaster turned his gaze to me, and I raised my chin. He narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment. With a final once-over, the headmaster turned on his heel and began the walk back to the ceremony hall.

"I should really go."

I turned to leave but Damien caught my arm.

"What?"

"I just...nothing...its nothing."

He released my arm, looking embarrassed. I tilted my head at him.

"You got this, Damien. I'll be watching from the crowd, okay? I'll make sure I get a good spot."

Damien seemed to visibly pull himself together, shaking his head as if shooing away a thought. He gave me a small smile.

"I'll see you inside."

I smiled back at him, pleased to see his confidence returned. He was going to need it. I turned on my heel and made my way down the stone corridor, footsteps clacking. I slipped in through the double doors, making my way to the stairs that led to the top balcony, figuring that's where I would get the best view of the ceremony. I shoved my way through the crowd, taking some elbows and throwing some in return. Finally, with glares burning though the back of my skull, I made it to the railing. I leaned over as much as I dared, scanning for Damien. I saw him by the left side of the small stage with another boy I didn't recognise, both looking tiny in comparison to the large students coating the front row. I felt uneasiness stir inside me. They were a lot bigger than last year. The muttering in the room was silenced by the headmaster stepping forward, placing his hands on the podium.

"Students. Teachers. Today, as I'm sure you are aware, is the twelfth birthday of two of our students here."

I joined in with the cheers and banging that were echoing around the room. The headmaster allowed it to continue for a while, before raising his hands again for quiet.

"The first of these two that will be initiated is...Tyler Gasset!"

Responding to the whoops around the room, the other boy who I didn't recognise stood, walking over to where the headmaster was standing. He clasped a hand on the boys shoulder.

"Tyler Gasset. You are now twelve years of age. Do you accept your position in the institute?"

"Yes, headmaster!"

"Do you promise to uphold our morals and values?"

"Yes, headmaster!"

"Do you promise to strike quick and true?"

"Yes, headmaster!"

We all applauded him. He had responded properly like he had been drilled to. Now all he had to do was…

"Gasset. You have one challenge standing between you, and acceptance into the institute as a fully initiated student. Do you accept the challenge?"

"I do."

The headmaster gave a shrill whistle, and the first half of the students in the front row rose, drawing weapons. Tyler drew his own. They encircled him, pausing to give the students sitting nearby time to draw back. All eyes were on Mr Morgenstern.

"Begin."

Tyler took a defensive stance as the older students rushed him. I lost him in the fray for a couple seconds as metallic ringing filled the air. He came back into my view and I leaned forward with the rest of the crowd, trying to gauge how he was going. It looked like he was doing pretty well. He kept up with the older students, deflecting or dodging their incoming strikes. He was quick, I'd give him that. But slowly, the older students were pressing him back. One was sliced along the forearm and she cried out and dropped back, letting another take her place in the offensive. Tyler could use the numbers to his advantage; crowding them so they couldn't take a proper swing. That was what I had told Damien to do when we were training. But he didn't. Instead they slipped through his defenses, circling him. I pursed my lips, knowing what was coming. With a nod around the circle they began to attack in pairs, one from each side of the circle lunging forward. Tyler couldn't hold off two attacks from opposing directions. First it was a small nick on his upper right arm. Then a gash opened across his chest. Finally, one of the students drove their sword through Tyler's calf, driving him to the ground with a barely restrained scream. The older students all raised their swords, letting the tips rest on varied points across Tyler's body. They turned their gaze to the headmaster. He didn't look pleased.

"Tyler. You have lost."

Tyler was shaking, teeth cutting deep into his bottom lip with the effort not to cry out again. He didn't try to rise.

"Do you accept defeat?"

A tip of one of the students sword pierced Tyler's skin, reminding him of his position. He raised his head to meet the headmaster's eyes.

"I accept my defeat," he muttered, spitting a globule of blood into the stone floor, "do with me as you will."

I released a breath, feeling glad I wasn't in Tyler's shoes. From here, there were two options. Either Tyler was disgraced from the institute; cast out, status removed, never to contact us again. Or…

"Shall it be death?"

The headmaster appealed to the crowd, throwing his arms out wide. I didn't join in with the crowd's frenzied cheering. The headmaster tilted his head, seeming to gauge the noise levels. He made a fanning motion and the volume doubled. He turned back to Tyler. Smiled. Slowly he raised his hand, the crowds now sounding more like a mob. His hand slowly formed a thumbs up, and he showed it around to the crowd. Meeting eyes again with Tyler, he turned it upside down, sadistic smile playing across his upturned lips. Tyler started to yell, but it was lost in the screaming and hollering of the crowd. The older students drew back their weapons and, with a synchronicity I couldn't help but admire, drove their blades into Tyler's body. Blood splashed onto the cobbles as they withdrew, letting Tyler's body fall limp onto the ground. They raised their bloody weapons up to the crowd, looking horrifically happy with themselves. While the crowds fanned the hype, I looked away, feeling slightly sick. They were like animals. The designated body removers stepped forward, taking Tyler's body away. It left a smear of rose red blood on the tiles. No one bothered to clean it up. I looked over to Damien, who was pale. I tried to catch his eye, but he wasn't taking his gaze off the bloodstains. He looked like he was going to be sick. The headmaster raised his hands for silence and the blood-frenzied crowd complied. The room now hushed and all gazes on him, the headmaster turned to Damien.

"Our second and final student who is aiming to pass initiation today is Damien Morgenstern."

Spurred by the whooping of the audience, Damien stood.

...

"Damien Morgenstern. You are now twelve years of age. Do you accept your position in the institute?"

"Yes, headmaster!"

"Do you promise to uphold our morals and values?"

"Yes, headmaster!"

"Do you promise to strike quick and true?"

"Yes, headmaster!"

I cheered with everyone else, but it felt forced. In truth, I was worried for Damien, to the point where I almost didn't want to watch.

"Morgenstern. You have one challenge standing between you, and acceptance into the institute as a fully initiated student. Do you accept the challenge?"

"I do."

The headmaster let out another grating whistle. The other half of the front row stood, flexing and drawing their weapons. I felt the moisture flee my mouth. They were huge, so much bigger than the ones Tyler had to fight. The crowd seemed to have realised that as well, and there was some skeptical muttering in the crowd. The headmaster shushed them.

"Yes, these students are bigger," he told us firmly, "and, yes, there are more of them."

There were? I counted. He was right. There were fifteen of them. Tyler fought ten. What was the headmaster playing at?

"But, I have been informed that young Damien here is excelling in his fighting skills. And we don't want him to pass too easy, so we?"

The last bit was a shout and the crowd responded, questions clearly answered. Mine weren't. Damien's father turned and smiled cruelly at him. Was this some kind of test? Did he want Damien to get killed? Damien raised his chin, but I could see he was shook. We had only trained for ten students. Damien's eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find me. I wiggled my fingers so I was easier to see and his eyes met mine. They were filled the fear. I nodded at him, trying to pretend I wasn't scared for his life.

"Kick their ass, Damien!" I yelled, smiling and shaking my fists while my stomach was in turmoil.

Damien smirked and seemed to begin to regain his confidence. He lifted his sword and, with a wink in my direction, turned to face the older students. He took a fighting stance and they followed suit. Not a noise in the crowd as the headmaster regarded the fight about to take place.

"Begin."

With a yell, Damien charged forward.

...

The older students seemed taken back by his offensive move, having to quickly switch their stances to on the defence. Damien collided with the first students, blocking an attack and quickly disarming him. With a rapid strike to the students temple with his hilt, he had bested one student. Damien moved so that the unconscious body was between him and the other fourteen students. The other students seemed unfazed, either stepping over the downed fighter, or on him. Damien continued moving backwards, placing as little space between his back and the crowd as possible.

Smart.

He remembered our training and was trying to make sure that they couldn't sneak behind him and surround him. Damien bounced on his feet, loosening his arms. I darted my eyes over the older students, trying to figure out who would attack next. Suddenly, a burly Indian boy darted forward, followed by two of the other students. They formed a semicircle around Damien. Three against one? I felt my stomach drop. I was sure Damien could handle it but I couldn't help but worry. All it took was one slip up and the only friend I ever had could be reduced to a stain on the floor. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I was holding.

Damien had this under control.

I hoped.

As if to emphasise my point, he twirled his sword, raising an eyebrow at the three students. They charged forward, the one on Damien's left striking first, a broad sweep aimed at Damien's chest. Damien stepped into the attack, blocking the strike to his left and ending up directly in front of the student. He headbutted them fiercely, knocking them backwards and making blood spill from their nose. If he had done it right, it should be broken. Damien then jammed the hilt of his sword onto the guys wrist, shattering it instantly. He snatched up the sword and, with one in each hand, turned to face the other students. He deflected both their attacks with ease, pushing away their blades. Damien then ducked low, sweeping with both swords at the students' legs. One jumped but the other was no so quick, catching a slice along his Achilles tendon that made him bellow in pain. He went down and Damien faced the last student of the three. Before he could make a move, another handful of students dashed forward, attempting to rush him and catch him unawares. I could almost feel Damien roll his eyes as he stopped their advance quickly and efficiently; striking down the leading student and then twirling and knocking out the last student of the three that had attacked him before.

That left ten.

All of this took only seconds.

The students seemed to have realised that small groups were not working, and begun attacking as a uniformed body. Two or three would dart forward, swords outstretched, before quickly retreating back into the group. Damien needed to do something to change the tide.

"Switch it up, Damien! Put them on the back foot!"

It was almost as if he heard me. Before the next set of students could attack he took the sword that he'd taken off the downed student and threw it hard through the air. It embedded itself in the thigh of one of the leading students, making him scream, but Damien was already on the move. He leapt forward, ripping the sword out of the wounded student's thigh and driving it into the shoulder of another. Deflecting the incoming blows with his other arm, he kicked the student off his sword before moving quickly back to the edge of the crowd. They cheered wildly, fists in the air. I joined in a little. Only eight more to go. They were much more wary now, regarding Damien with a cautious eye. They seemed to be strategizing, trying to figure out how to defeat him. They couldn't seem to get a read on him; he kept darting around unexpectedly. Seconds ticked past without anyone making a move. Suddenly, Damien sprawled forward, sword flung from hand. Someone in the crowd had shoved him from behind. The older students were quick to pounce upon the opportunity. Three darted forward, intending to finish Damien off.

"Get up! Damien, get up!"

He didn't move. Had the fall knocked him unconscious? It seemed pretty far-fetched. The students came closer and closer, walking cautiously, clearing thinking along the same lines as me. Damien didn't so much as twitch. I felt my insides twist as they stopped over his body. With a glance at each other, they lowered their swords until they rested on Damien's skin. My heart skipped a couple beats. Could Damien lose?

Faster than my eyes could follow, one of the students standing over Damien went down. The crowd made a sound of shock as, from where he was lying on the ground, Damien jumped up, diverting the blades resting on his skin with a careful kick of his padded leg. He quickly connected a fist with a nose, halting the student before he could draw his sword. With a swift knee to the guts, that student toppled. Striking the first student in the head with his heel as he darted past, Damien faced off with the last of the three as the rest of the students started towards them. It was sword versus fists as Damien struck forward. He had to keep on his toes; dodging the blade before darting forward to pummel the student in the ribs. In less than three seconds Damien had knocked the student unconscious with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head. He stumbled back a touch as the last five students crowded him. If this was a fair match, he would have already won. Now he was on the defense, still weaponless, as the remaining students pressed home their advantage. Damien needed to regain his weapon. Seeing a break in the throng, Damien dove forward, landing in a forward roll and scooping his sword back into his hand. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as everyone around me cheered. It had taken him weeks to perfect that. Show off. The remaining five students formed a loose semicircle around Damien. He was nearing the dangerous numbers. He would be getting tired and now the students had some room to maneuver. Damien tried to send a strike to the student on the right, but was instead forced to jump back as the one of the left charged forward. They were catching on to his movements.

Without warning, a student darted forward, sword extended and aimed at Damien's heart. But Damien took it in his stride, blocking the blade and grabbing the student by his shirt. He drew him in close, the student's sword clattering on the cobbles. The crowd was silent as Damien placed the blade of his sword against the student's bared throat.

"Drop your weapons."

Damien's voice was a growl directed at the four students still standing. They glanced at each other, at the boy held hostage in Damien's arms. But they did not lower their weapons. Damien pressed the blade more firmly against the students neck, drawing a thin line of blood.

Still nothing.

A couple more seconds of staring. Then Damien turned his sword, driving it through the student's shoulder. He fell to the ground with a cry, hands already soaked in blood. Damien faced off against the last four. Blood patterned the front of his light armour. From here, I wasn't too worried. I had seen Damien defeat students in one versus four many times. He could do it. The four students rushed him, swords glimmering in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. The fighting was fast, almost too fast for me to keep up with. Damien parried a strike, twirling away from the incoming attack. A viper-like strike to a kneecap and another student was down.

That left three.

Damien snatched up an ownerless sword, sweat running in rivers down his face. He must be exhausted. The last three students cautiously moved forward. Damien stepped forward too, engaging with them, not letting them gain any advantage. He knocked one student aside, winded but not unconscious, and then took the legs out from under another. He drove his sword through the calf of the last, driving him to the ground. I noticed the winded student getting back up behind him.

"Damien, behind!"

Damien spun, but he wasn't fast enough to block the incoming attack. It sliced along his cheek, creating a thin wound that oozed blood down his face. Damien didn't cry out, knowing that any noise would be seen as cowardance. He instead slammed the pommel of this sword onto the back of the student's head, forcing him into unconsciousness. Damien turned to face the last student who had regained his feet. Blood dripped from a cut along the elbow of the student's arm but he held his sword determinedly. Damien would need to be careful; that determination could be dangerous. They circled each other warily, neither wanting to make the first strike and expose a weakness. Damien cast aside his second sword, gripping his original firmly in both hands. Evening the fight. Noble.

The opposing student only saw it as a weakness, and rushed forward. Damien parried his sloppy strike with an upwards motion, leaving the student's body unprotected. Damien drove his knee deep into the student's stomach and I could practically hear the wind pour out of his lungs. Damien then linked his hands around the back of the student's neck, once again sending his knee into the student's unguarded middle. The student slumped over, falling to the ground with a barely subdued groan.

Silence in the crowd.

Damien glanced around the arena, taking in the fifteen fallen students littering the floor. He turned his gaze to his father, whose eyes were thoughtful. The headmaster raised his arms.

"He has passed!"

The crowd went into a frenzy and I joined them. He had passed! The crowd surged forward and somehow Damien was raised onto their collective shoulders, his face was one of shock and exuberance. I began to make my way out the door, not sticking around for the celebrations. I would catch up with Damien later, like we had planned.

...

I lightly fingered the gauze layering the cut on his cheek.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

I turned back to the sunset, the roof's shingles firm beneath my legs. Damien looked outward too, an expression of relief on his face. I couldn't help but grin. He had passed initiation. All we needed now was for me to pass in a couple of weeks, and we would be on our first assignment. Damien seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"You know Ash, if I had a different partner, I could be getting briefed on my first assignment by now."

I scoffed.

"Who else would want to work with you?"

Damien chuckled and we both lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"You fought really well," I remarked to fill the silence, "Where did all that confidence come from?"

Damien gave a little smile and I saw his ears go a little red.

"I...well I kinda just pretended I was you."

That explained the wink; it was my signature move. I felt something tickle my chest and felt my ears start to go pink too. Suddenly, I remembered something. I sat up quickly, reaching for my satchel.

"What are y-."

"Shh. You'll see."

I reached inside, fumbling around until I found what I was looking for. I pulled out the small container and handed it to Damien.

"Here."

He took it delicately from my outstretched hand.

"Happy Birthday, Damien."

A grin split his face as he tore into the wrapping. I felt excitement build up in my chest. Would he like it? It had cost me a fair bit of my allowance. Damien reached the small box concealed inside and opened the lid. He pulled out his present as I watched in anticipation. He held it up to the setting sun's rays.

It was a brooch. Stupid really. But I had seen it in the marketplace and it had just reminded me of him. So, I had bought it. It looked like a plain silver sword at first, but if you looked closer it actually had a word written over and over again in a Gallic font; Pugnator.

"What does it mean?"

"Fighter," I replied, "Pugnator is Latin for fighter. Do...do you like it? It's fine if you don't, I mean, it's pretty stupid, so-."

"Shut up, I love it."

Face screwed up in concentration, he pinned it to his shirt, just above his heart. He beamed at me.

"Best. Birthday. Ever."

I smiled back, glad he liked the gift. We both gazed back over the grounds. It was long after dark before we both climbed back down, having filled the time talking about nothing and everything. I missed it; just chatting with him. We made our way down the hallways, Damien escorting me to my dorm after much insistence on his behalf. Eventually, the large wooden door appeared at the end of the corridor.

"Guess this is good night."

I could tell from his tone that he didn't really want to go either. We stood awkwardly outside the door before I decided to do something risky. I darted forward, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Night Damien!" I called as I hurried inside the dorm, my cheeks alarmingly red.

Lucky I closed the door when I did, otherwise I would have seen Damien's go the exact same colour.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	13. 13: Celestia

Hey Guys!

There's no change in POV in this one, so no hint this time! Enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-13-

Celestia

* * *

The morning sun's rays were beginning to filter in through the blinds as the day began. A yawn threatened to spill out as I read the next passage. I hadn't slept. I was too intrigued by this whole primordial thing and was learning a lot. Jack had managed to though. His cheek was pressed to the table and book he had been reading was splayed out of his hand. His chest rose gently with each breath and his eyelashes fluttered as he dreamt. I turned the page, reaching the last section on Chaos I could find. Replacing the book on the pile, I stretched my arms, feeling cramped from sitting in a chair for hours. I decided to go for a wander, maybe check out the second floor of this library. It would help me to sort out all the information I now knew. I stepped carefully, not wanting to wake Jack up. He was much less annoying when he was asleep. My footfalls were soft as I padded up the stairs, hand trailing along the polished railing. I let my mind wander as my eyes scanned the titles, many of which written in languages I didn't recognise. I breathed a soft, content sigh, letting the stress of the past couple of days, weeks, months flow out of my body. Selecting a spine I recognised, I slid it gently out of its tucked in position on the shelf. A smirk rose as I ran my finger over the gold, embellished lettering on the front.

 _"Goddess of Wisdom."_

It was a book about Athena. I had read it so many times that I practically had it memorised. I had wanted to know more about my past, know as much as I could. Fighting back the wave of nostalgia that threatened to overwhelm me, I replaced it back on the shelf. I was about to start back down the stairs when a sign caught my eye; Recent Additions. I couldn't help the glimmer of interest and hope that sparked in my chest. Maybe they had a copy of the Cassandra Clare book I had been waiting for! I paced over and scanned over the author's names: Cameron, Carlos, Cobble, Conrad, Cornwall.

But no Clare. I pursued my lips. That sucked.

"Whatcha doing?"

Reflexes took over as I spun, already aiming a fist at the voice. Thankfully, I stopped it just before it hit Jack's nose. He didn't flinch, probably too drowsy to realise what had happened.

"Mornin' to you too," he yawned, pushing my fist away with a finger, "Did you sleep?"

I shook my head, turning back to the shelf as I saw Jack's disapproving expression. I scanned over the names again, hoping I had just missed it with my first glance. Jack leaned over my shoulder.

"Lookin' for a book?"

"No, I'm hunting for elephants."

I gave him a bored look but he just nodded solemnly.

"And what's that elephants name?"

I shook my head, turning away, back to the shelf. Gods, he was insufferable. He rolled his eyes.

"Seriously. I am the one who did the restocking and organising of this place. I'll know if it's here."

"Lord of Shadows. Cassandra Clare."

Jack thought for a second before shaking his head. He seemed to notice my expression fall. A look of recognition came over his face.

"That's the one that was in for you at the library, right?"

I nodded quickly, brushing past him, not wanting to discuss it further, wary that the conversation would turn to my past. I was not in the mood to talk about that. Jack followed me as I stepped back down the stairs. We both sat back down in our respective seats, examining our pile of books.

"So, if you didn't sleep, what did you learn? Anything about the heart or why Chaos is...what?"

I was finding it really hard to concentrate on what Jack was saying and could hardly contain my laughter. He looked confused.

"What?"

"Your hair," I spluttered.

It was sticking up at all angles as a result of him running his hands through it. Combined with the crumpled clothes and his dazed gaze, he looked ridiculously dorkish, like a disgruntled little kid who just got woken up from a nap. His eyes widened in embarrassment and he jumped up, quickly tried to flatten down his lightly curling ebony locks. Finished, he still had a little bit sticking up at the front, but I decided to let him figure that out himself. He sat down heavily in the chair, letting a sigh out his nose.

"So what did you figure out?"

Way to sour the mood. I had found out a lot. And none of it looked very good for us.

...

"We need to talk to Chiron and Annabeth," I told him grimly.

We were standing around a large table with detailed maps splayed across its surface. Jack and I had pretty much run into Annabeth when we had come down the stairs into the cabin. She had taken in that we were still in yesterday's clothes and our dishevelled hair, and drew her own conclusions, raising her eyebrows. She had quickly told us that we were having a meeting and that she had some information to tell us. We had told her that we had found some stuff too and, after dropping past the tables for a quick breakfast, we entered the Big House. That was about five minutes ago. We were munching on our toast when Kenzie came in. I gave her a small smile and she returned it tenfold, taking the seat next to me. Face scrunched, she wrinkled her nose.

"You guys smell. Did you even shower?"

I had when I had dumped my bag in my new room, but Jack hadn't. He shook his head, nose pressed to his underarm. She rolled her eyes and bit into her apple. I couldn't help but smile a little at her. I had known from when I had first met her that we would get along well.

...

"Look out, would ya!"

I darted out of the way as two campers holding giant shields jogged past. I was mildly lost. Zack had pointed out the general area of the shop where I was supposed to get my gear and camp clothes, but I couldn't see it anywhere. After I don't know how long of wandering around, I unconsciously began to gravitate toward the training grounds, the clanging of metal on metal drawing me near. I saw two campers sparring over to the left, another practicing at the archery range and a group of four or so clustered in the centre of the grounds.

What were they doing?

There seemed to be three large demigods crowded around another. I watched with mounting realisation as the lone camper was shoved, landing heavily on their back. Before I could think about it, my legs set off at a brisk pace. I walked past the two campers duelling, neither of them giving me a second glance. But when I tried to walk past the archer they stopped their practice. She jumped forward and grabbed my arm.

"Don't."

I pulled my arm out of her grasp. Her face was admandant. "Seriously. I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

The girl licked her lips, looking like she was about to disclose something she shouldn't. Finally, she leaned forward.

"That's Stephanie. Stephanie Key-Ebzery."

I raised an eyebrow and the girl rolled her eyes.

"Have you been living under a rock? You don't talk to Stephanie Key-Ebzery. And you certainly don't interrupt her now."

"Whatever you say." I drawled, ignoring the girls hushed attempt to stop me. I didn't care who this chick was.

"Is there a problem here?"

I was still walking towards the group, who had all turned to face me. One stepped forward.

"Why don't you mind your own business, and keep walking."

She had a dangerous look in her eyes that I dismissed. Her little followers on either side of her glared too. I glanced down to the person on the ground.

"What's your vote? Shall I go?"

"Jus' go."

I was taken aback by the boy's voice. That wasn't what I was expecting. What was going on?

"You heard him," leered the one I assumed was Stephanie, "keep walking."

She moved her hand in a little 'shoo shoo' motion. I stared at her, making sure my unamusement was clear on my face. Stephanie stepped forward, pressing her powered face right in front of mine.

"Walk away."

Did she not understand English? I wasn't going to just walk away. But...I kind of wanted to. Just walk away. Maybe I could go see the new library! That would be great! I had almost turned away when the part of my brain that was still under my control realised what was happening.

She was using her charmspeak on me.

So, I did the only thing I could. I threw my forehead forward, feeling it connect with her nose. She shrieked and her hold on my mind disintegrated. Blood dribbled between her fingers as she clutched her nose.

"Whah tha hall!"

She stumbled back a couple of steps. I followed her.

"Never use your charmspeak on me again, or this will be the least of your problems. Got it?"

Stephanie nodded, tears now spilling out of her eyes. She hurried off, minions following her and trying to comfort her. I turned back to the boy on the ground. I reached down a hand and helped him up. He was a slight little thing. He had light brown hair and wild green eyes.

"What did you do?"

"Is this normal?" I asked instead of answering.

His face fell and he shrugged.

"Yeah...kinda...it's no big deal though. You didn't have to do that."

I felt bad, looking at his dejected expression.

"What's your name."

"I'm Sam. Sam Blackthorn."

"Celestia. Celestia Lightwood."

We shook hands awkwardly. The smile slipped from his face as his glance turned to somewhere behind.

"Hey, Kenzie."

I turned around. It was one of the girls from before, who was working with Stephanie. I stepped slightly in front of him, feeling protective of him, even after only knowing him for a short amount of time. Kenzie stopped, her eyes hurt.

"Please, don't. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Didn't look like a misunderstanding from where I was."

A hand on my shoulder. Sam looked hesitant.

"It's fine, Celestia. Kenize isn't as bad as the others."

Those words seemed to pain Kenzie, but I stepped aside. She walked forward, a close eye still kept on me.

"Are you okay?" she murmured to Sam.

He nodded, eyes downcast. Kenzie stepped back, turning to me.

"Thank you for stepping in."

I frowned.

"Why didn't you? You were right there."

Kenzie bit her lip and glanced at Sam.

"It's complicated."

I glanced between the two of them. Right. Kenzie seemed to realise that I wasn't getting it.

"Um…the Aphrodite cabin has this...tradition…"

I motioned for her to go on.

"Like a rite of passage for new campers. It stopped a couple years ago, but Drew brought it back when Piper left."

The names meant nothing to me but I nodded like I understood. Kenzie looked quickly at Sam and then straightened her spine.

"Basically I am supposed to break someone's heart," she told me matter-of-factly, "and they chose Sam. Which, I don't wanna do."

"So what just happened was…"

"Stephanie." Sam spoke up, "She was trying to...I dunno...force me to ask Kenzie out so that she could then break up with me? It was kinda weird."

Kenzie shook her head.

"She has no idea what she's doing. She's trying to be like Drew, our head councillor, but she's in over her head."

I noticed a touch of empathy in Kenzie's voice. My hard feelings towards her softened a little as I realised that she really didn't want any part in this.

"Well why don't you say something? You're just letting her harass Sam here." I gestured to Sam, who I imagined was feeling quite uncomfortable now.

Kenzie's face said it all. "I've tried before. It generally doesn't end well. Stephanie's charmspeak is really strong. In fact…"

She paused, looking at me with a praising expression.

"You know, you're pretty much the only person I know who's ever broken out of her charmspeak. That was really cool."

"Thanks." I said, mind made up. "I'm Celestia."

I extended a hand and Kenzie accepted it gratefully, looking relieved to have avoided a conflict.

"Kenzie. But, I guess you probably already picked that up."

She gave a quick, nervous smile. Then she turned to Sam.

"Sorry, again, about her. I'm trying to get her to stop I swear."

"No, its fine. I should probably go."

"Right, no problem. See you later."

The conversation was so awkward I was getting second-hand embarrassment just watching it. Sam set off toward the Big House, leaving me with my new acquaintance. I let out a low whistle and she turned to me, startled.

"What?"

"That was the most awkward thing I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. What's the deal with you two?"

Kenzie squirmed.

"Drew and Stephanie have been trying to set me up with Sam since the moment I set foot in this camp. At first I went along with it; they only wanted me to break his heart, so what? But now…"

"You got to know him."

She nodded sadly.

"I don't want to hurt him." Suddenly, her eyes widened as if hearing what she was saying. "Why in Hades am I telling you this?"

I shrugged. It's not like I was exactly the therapist type. Kenzie thrust out her pinkie finger. I raised my eyebrows.

"Pinky swear not to tell anyone?"

"Is it legally binding?"

"No, but if you break it, you lose your position as my friend until further notice."

The corners of my mouth tweaked up as I locked my pinkie in hers. She seemed to have the same kind of cynical humour I did. Maybe we _could_ be friends.

It was then that the spirit possessed her.

...

I snapped out of my reminiscing as Chiron wheeled into the room. We all watched him, waiting for him to tell us what he had found out. He didn't look very hopeful.

"I reached out to my sources. They confirmed what we believed; Chaos is rising."

My stomach dropped. I guessed a small part of me had hoped that the prophecy had been a mistake, or that Chaos had some alternate meaning. But apparently not.

"How do you know?" asked Jack beside me.

"There are omens everywhere. The oracles are falling. People are going mad with no warning. This is Chaos."

"How far away?" I asked, wanting to know how close this threat was.

"Well the prophecy says Midsummer's Eve." answered Annabeth. "We think that's your deadline."

"And that's…"

"Well it's the 7th of June today. That gives us a fortnight."

Jack's calculations were quick. He was correct.

"And do we have any idea where we're going?" Kenzie asked hesitantly, clearing not wanting to sound rude.

A tense silence filled the room as Chiron and Annabeth both shook their heads. I was very conscious of the ticking of the wall on the clock. It seemed to be reminding me that every second we wasted, Chaos was getting closer.

"All my contacts except for one have replied," Chiron told us, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" asked Jack, looking bewildered, "Like, nothing nothing?"

Chiron shook his head.

"Great," Jack muttered, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

I had to agree. That meant that we had made basically no progress. And time was slipping away. Annabeth turned to us.

"What did you guys find?"

A glance between myself and Jack silently opted me as the speaker.

"Mostly backstory. We think Kenzie's right; Chaos is ridiculously powerful. He will need one hell of a vessel to hold him. Maybe this heart we're looking for is a part of this vessel. Maybe without it, Chaos won't be able to rise?"

I looked around the room.

"We don't know why he's coming. We don't know how to kill him. The only thing we can do is stop him from arriving."

Nods met my little speech.

"So what's our next step?" Kenzie asked.

Chiron raised his hands in a shrug-like gesture.

"For now we can wait for my final contact. Until then: train, learn and prepare."

Although we were all unsatisfied at the result, we declared the meeting closed. Kenzie, Jack and I stood on the porch, looking over the campgrounds.

"What now. More research?"

I shook my head at Jack.

"I checked every book there. We got all we possibly can out of them."

"Train?" Kenzie asked, "The grounds are free."

Jack and I both made noises of agreement and we set off towards the grounds. It would be interesting to see Kenzie fight, I realised. I had no idea what she was capable of.

"So. Who's first?"

"You two."

Jack gestured at Kenzie and I. I gave him a look, but we both shrugged and took our places, Kenzie drawing a short knife from her side.

"So how does this work?" I called out, "First blood? Surrender?"

They both gave me weird looks.

"The swords are blunted magically by the arena."

Right, right. Made sense. No blood or deathly injuries or anything. I realised that they were waiting for me. I raised my hands to my ears and I saw Kenzie frown. The intricate, tiny metal working in my earrings clicked and turned as I drew my swords from them. Her expression turned to astonishment.

"Wow." she mouthed.

I smirked, not able to help the surge of pride at her amazement. They were pretty wicked. We both took offensive stances.

"You guys ready?"

We both nodded.

"Alright. Let's see who wins."

I took that as an indication to start, so I took a couple lunging steps forward, closing the distance between Kenzie and myself. To her credit, she didn't shy away. She held firm in place, eyes locked on mine. I did a slower strike to her head, testing out her reflexes. She caught it with the flat of her blade, driving it to the side and striking for a blow to my stomach. I danced out of her reach. She followed, sending her blade towards my side. I deflected it with one sword and swung with the other, aiming to hit while she was distracted. It was about to strike her arm, when her bracelet extended, covering her arm in a thick, but light looking metal. My sword bounced off, not even leaving a dent.

Interesting.

The bracelet retracted as Kenzie and I both skipped back. She noticed my appreciative eye.

"Swap you the bracelet for the swords." She winked.

"Not happening."

We slowly circled closer, a wary eye kept on each others weapons. I stepped forward, feigning before darting to the left. It worked a little, and I caught Kenzie slightly off guard. I swung for the back of her legs with one sword, the other held back in preparation for a counter. It came as Kenzie spun, hitting away my blade with a reinforced arm. But, I had expected that. I sent my other sword hurtling for the back of her now unprotected legs, aiming to knock her off balance. It worked, and I had enough force behind the attack to send her crashing to the dirt. She landed on her back, wind forcefully ejected from her lungs. She opened her eyes to my sword point placed between her eyebrows.

"Checkmate."

I withdraw my sword, twirling them back into their earring hilts. I extended a hand to Kenzie, helping her up. Patting the dust off her pants, she beamed at me.

"That was awesome! Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"I'm self-taught," I answered, registering the look of surprise on Jack's face.

"Woah," Kenzie replied, "You're really good for someone who's self-taught. I've been training for years and you beat me easily."

"Not easily," I amended, "Just watch that you don't leave yourself unprotected when you attack, and keep an eye out for feints like the one I used."

Kenzie nodded, clearly taking on board what I had said. She wiggled her eyebrows at Jack.

"Your turn!"

Jack drew his sword and, with an indecipherable look at me, stepped into the arena.

...

I had seen Jack fight. He was good. And he had seen me fight against those skeletons, so he knew I was good. But we both didn't know how we would fare against the other.

This should be entertaining.

We circled each other hesitantly. We were trying to suss the other out, get a read on our opponent. Kenzie rolled her eyes.

"Come on! Someone hit someone."

Jack took the initiative, darting forward with a quick strike to my side that I deflected. He sprung back and we regarded each other warily. I stepped forward and Jack stepped back, maintaining his distance. Suddenly, he drove forward, sword swinging for my head. I leaped back, blocking and countering, driving a hardened fist into his side. He grunted. Kenzie cheered.

"That's what I'm talking about!"

Jack rightened himself and slid one his throwing knives out of the sheath on his thigh. He twirled it lightly across his fingers before throwing it deftly. It spiralled through the air, headed for my chest. I deflected it with a sword and he drew another. I raised my eyebrows.

"Seriously? That's not going to work."

He raised one in return.

"It seemed to work when I nearly killed you with them."

"Bull. I was already bleeding out. That's how it got me."

Jack raised his hands in a 'whatever you say gesture'. I narrowed my eyes at him. He threw the knife and I deflected it again. He drew two more.

"How many of those do you have?"

"You're about to find out."

He threw them one after the other, both different heights. I stepped forward, hitting them into the ground. I kept walking forward. Jack drew another, throwing it lower, towards my legs. Deflected. The next one flew towards my head but instead of blocking it, I rolled on the ground, letting it continue over my head. I scooped up one of Jack's knives as I spun, quickly replacing my sword in its hilt. I bounced to my feet in an instant, knife already flung from my hand. Jack saw it, and had to dive out of the way to avoid it. He landed on the dirt, hard, before rolling over and ending up in a crouch.

"Cute."

I smirked. He sprung forward from his crouched position. Before I had time to redraw my sword, he was upon me, trying to push home his advantage. I fought him off, and we ended up in a stand-still, blades locked, gazes determined. I gave him swift kick to the knee. He dropped, losing his grip on his sword and it fell to the ground with light clang. Before I could so much as twitch my blade towards him, his arms were around my waist and his force was sending me toward the ground. Jarred by the landing, my grip loosened and with a kick, Jack had knocked my final sword away, sending it skittering across the grass. It would take a more than a couple seconds to return back to its hilt. More time than I had. Jack pressed a knee to my stomach, holding me in place. He drew yet another throwing knife from his side.

"You surrender?" he smirked.

Before he could hold it to my throat, I slapped it away, sending a quick punch to his throat. He gasped, and the knife went flying. I kicked him off, regaining my feet. He scrambled back up too, both of us now weaponless. There was a adrenaline-filled silence as we looked at each other.

"Who wins?"

Kenzie gestured between us.

"You both don't have weapons."

Not true. I curled my fingers into fists, bringing them in front of my nose in a protective stance. Jack looked at me. Suddenly, he laughed.

"You're psycho, you know that?"

But he too took a fighting stance. Except in each hand he held a short blade.

"Seriously?"

He shrugged. I sighed. Whatever. He could use his throwing knives. I was still going to kick his ass.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	14. 14: Jack

Hey Guys!

Time for a bit of fighting, and a bit of a plot twist.

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-14-

Jack

* * *

She fought like some who had been training for years. Self-taught? I doubted it. My muscles ached from where her firm punches had made contact. She was good. Damn good. She had disarmed me so easily that I felt mildly humiliated. I was one of the best fighters in this camp. She shouldn't have been able to do that. I'd laughed when she had taken a hand-to-hand combat stance. I mean, seriously? She just wouldn't give up. I'd tried to intimidate her my drawing two more throwing knives, leaving just one in my hilt. I spun them across my fingers, showing off, but she didn't seemed fazed even in the slightest.

She stepped forward, gait cautious. I moved forward too. She wasn't going to attack first; she needed to get rid of my knives. She was waiting for my attack.

That's why the kick caught me so off-guard.

It hit just below my left shoulder, numbing my entire arm almost instantly. The knife slipped out of my immobile hand. She darted back, stance still on the defensive. I shook my arm, trying to work some feeling back it.

"Ow."

Celestia's mouth twitched, like she was holding back a smile, but it quickly stopped. With the advantage of a blade, I should be beating her here. But she was so fast. I needed to strike while she wasn't looking somehow.

An idea came to me.

Using my foot, I kicked forward, spraying dirt at her face. Taken by surprise, she didn't retaliate, giving me valuable seconds to dive down and fling some more dust her way. She coughed, one hand over her mouth and the other hastily swiping at the dust obscuring her view. I dove forward, tackling her to the ground for the second time today. We landed hard, but before I could do anything, she drove a knee into my side, right below the kidney. It hurt like hell and I gritted my teeth in pain. I still had a knife in one hand, so I tried to move it towards her throat, but she grabbed my wrist. She rolled us so she was on top of me, turning the blade in so it pointed at me. She put her weight behind it and it took all my force to stop it moving. I grunted as she put more force on it.

"Surrender?" She asked, mocking my earlier remark.

I hissed between my teeth as the blade dropped another inch. It was getting too close to my chest. I had to get her off me. I wrapped a leg around her waist and sat up, pulling her back, abs straining. She realised what I was doing and dived to the side, throwing us both off balance. We landed next to each other on the dirt. I quickly threw a kick, which Celestia dived over, aiming a punch at my stomach. I braced for the impact. When she hit, I grabbed her arm and rolled, pulling her over the top of me. I tried to slash her with my blade, but she blocked it with her forearm, driving my arm away. She struck me quickly in the ribs, before smashing a fist into my wrist. Much to my dismay, my blade dropped to the ground. I went to reach for my last knife, but Celestia stopped me with a kick to the ribs, sending me flying backwards.

Crap.

I rolled out of the way, avoiding a kick that would've hurt like hell. In the distance, I saw Stygian Iron glittering on the dirt. I lunged for it, feeling a glancing blow to my leg. The hilt of my sword now firmly back in my hand, I stood and renewed my attack on Celestia, giving her no chance to search for a weapon. With a quick leg sweep, she tripped backwards and I fell down on top of her, knees on either side, tip of my blade resting on her throat. Her eyes were fiery as she glared at me.

"I win."

She smirked, clearly pleased with herself. I felt a tap on my chest and I saw my last throwing knife placed above my heart, point digging slightly into my shirt.

"Debatable."

Unbelievable. I shook my head with admiration. How in Hades did she do that? I stood up, muscles aching. I reached down a hand, offering it to Celestia. After a brief pause, she took it, allowing me to pull her to her feet. She smiled widely at me, and even though she was clearly making fun of me, I let her. Because she deserved it. That was amazing.

"Oh my Gods!"

Kenzie's eyes were wide.

"That. Was. Awesome! And intense! Aren't you guys hurt?"

We both nodded, massaging sore body parts. I hadn't held back, but I had a lingering feeling that Celestia had. I realised in shock that the sun was starting to go down. Had we seriously spent an entire day? Kenzie registered my shock.

"Well it was around ten when you guys finally came out of the library. Twelve-ish by the time we got here. It's 'bout three now."

Huh. Not as late as I thought then. We looked between each other. Celestia and I didn't want another fight. Kenzie didn't have anyone else to fight. We were finished here. Suddenly, a thought struck me.

"Celestia, did Zack ever actually get you the stuff you need?"

The look on her face told me all I needed to know. For Hades' sake.

"Did he even show you around? Or did he just ditch you to hang out with his girlfriend?"

"Yeah...no? Well, kinda. I saw the Big House and my cabin…"

I sighed, shaking my head. I looked at Kenzie.

"You wanna show her around?"

She shrugged.

"Sure."

We set off towards the supplies shop.

...

"Okay, this looks like your size. Last one too, this must be your lucky day."

Wren passed down a orange Camp Half-Blood shirt. Celestia chucked it on her pile, which consisted of: a bright pink toothbrush which she eyed distastefully, a tub of blade polish, a plain white pillow and a map of the camp.

"Chiron will give you a schedule soon."

Well, not that soon. We had a quest to go on. Wren regarded Celestia.

"You staying long, sweetheart?"

Celestia raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"I asked how long you were staying, beautiful."

Celestia looked at Kenzie, face surprised.

"Um, I'm not sure. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, leaning forward.

"Well, there's a game of capture the flag next week, and I wouldn't want to see you get hurt."

Another wink. I was about done with this guy. I was about to say something, when Celestia spoke up.

"Well you're going to have to keep me safe then." she purred.

What in Hades was she doing? Was she seriously flirting with Wren? _Wren_ of all people.

"No problem. Plus, Gloomy over there won't be much help against the Ares cabin."

Wren smiled. Celestia smiled back, but I noticed there was now something steely in it.

"Well I'll have to make sure we're on the same team then." She raised her eyebrows.

I realised now that Celestia was playing with him, and struggled to hide a smile. Wren glanced and me, and then back at Celestia.

"Yeah, no problem. Rumour has it we're versing Emo-boy over there. Should be fun to kick his ass."

Celestia's demeanor changed in an instant. She turned to me, passing over her stuff.

"Kick his ass, hey?"

She raised her eyebrows. She spun back to Wren, grabbing the front of his shirt. With a cry of surprise, Celestia dragged him until he was half-hanging out of the stall.

"Well, Wren, I hope that rumours true. I can't wait to kick your ass on the battlefield. And if you ever, ever, insult Jack again, then we will have a problem. Capeesh?"

Wren nodded, eyes wide with fear. Celestia released Wren's shirt, shoving him back into the kiosk.

"Let's go."

Celestia turned away, heading towards the Athena cabin. I looked at Kenzie.

"Oh, I like her." She grinned.

She ran off after Celestia, and I couldn't help but agree.

...

"I've never actually been inside the Athena cabin."

Kenzie was turning in a slow circle, taking it all in. I didn't need to; the number of times I had walked through here to get to the library, I practically had it memorised.

"I'll just go chuck my stuff on my bed," Celestia told us, pointing over her shoulder.

She left, leaving me with Kenzie, who raised her eyebrows at me.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She smirked, going to examine the bookshelves. Okay?

I poked my head into the study.

"Hey, Annie."

Annie swirled in her chair, smile on her face.

"Hey, Jack, how you doin'?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty good."

Celestia called out to Kenzie in the other room, drawing Annabeth's gaze to the doorway. Her smile grew even wider.

"She must be pretty special to get the double Herondale tour."

"I'm surprised Zack even got her here."

Annabeth registered the distaste on my face and shook her head.

"How many times do I have to tell you boys to just sort it out?"

"It's not that simple, Annie."

"I know," she sighed, "I know."

Kenzie popped her head into the room.

"Hey, Jack, we were gonna go check out the blacksmith and workshop. You coming with?"

I looked back to Annie who gestured at the door.

"Off you go."

The corner of my mouth tweaked up into a smile. I gave Annie a quick wave goodbye, following Kenzie out the door.

...

It was pretty obvious where the blacksmith was. The clanging of metal echoed across the camp, grating every camper's ears. Over the years I had learnt to drown it out. Thankfully, the Hephaestus cabin didn't work into the late hours of night. The heat wafted past us as we stepped in through the metal-lined door, and, to my distaste, the noise grew tenfold.

"Look out!"

We stepped to the side as a girl rushed past, gloved hands holding tongs. A glowing white light emitted from the metal she was clamping and her goggles were half-concealed by steam. Celestia let out a low whistle as she took in the bellowing flames, shouting, smoke and general mayhem.

"Now this, I could get used to."

"Hey! Can I get a hand?"

There was a boy struggling to pull a piece of machinery his way, its hinges and bolts creaking.

"Stop, stop, stop. You're creating a fissure that's just going to lead to further breakage!"  
"Get lost, Jed. I know what I'm doing."  
"You could run a torch over it." She didn't mean to, but Celestia remarked louder than she probably thought.  
"Huh?" The two boys looked at her.

"Here." Celestia was already striding over before I could say anything.

Celestia deftly stepped between the workbenches, snatching up a bottle of oil and a blowtorch. Shutting her eyes and looking away, she ran the blowtorch around the small cracks, pausing to check she was still on track. Then she lubricated the hinges, movements careful and precise. With a push, the piece of machinery slid over easy, coming to a stop in front of the awestruck boy.

"You're welcome."

She walked back over to us, a couple curious gazes following her. Kenzie rolled her eyes and patted Celestia's shoulder.

"Couldn't help but show off, could ya?"

Celestia shrugged.

"It's one of the only things I'm actually good at; I deserve to show it off."

We slowly made our way around the blacksmith, Celestia's eyes scanning the walls of tools, the diagrams, the blueprints and the finished, and not so finished, projects that littered the benches. Occasionally we had to move out of the way as a Hephaestus kid rushed past with some contraption or another. Celestia seemed to recognise most of them, muttering under her breath what the different components were. After making the full circuit, we walked back out into the sunlight, squinting after the darkness of the blacksmith. Blinking furiously, I turned to Celestia.

"You like it?"

She nodded, eyes full of joy.

"That was amazing! I've never seen that many tools and materials all in one place. I have so many experiments I wanna try out! Do you think I'd be allowed to?"

I looked at Kenzie, who raised her hands.

"Don't look at me. Daughter of Aphrodite here. That was my first visit too."

"I assume so," I told Celestia, "You're a descendant of Hephaestus after all. It's kinda your birthright."

She smiled, eyes thoughtful.

"Guess so."

...

We met back at the campfire as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. We all lounged on the logs, marshmallows extended on long sticks. There was an exclamation of surprise on the other side, followed by laughter. Zack was giggling with his girlfriend, poking the blackened marshmallow at their feet. I rolled my eyes. Gods, not even two days back and I was already sick of him. Kenzie pulled her marshmallow back from the fire, the edges a toasty hazelnut. I looked over at Celestia, who didn't have a stick in her hands. She was gazing thoughtfully at the fire. I pulled my marshmallow back and held it out to her.

"Marshmallow?"

She looked at me in surprise.

"What's it like?"

"You've never had a marshmallow?"

She shook her head. Seriously? I held it out to her and she took it hesitantly.

"All at once?"

"All at once."

She popped it her mouth, not even bothering to blow on it. She raised eyebrows.

"Mm, iss goob!"

I smiled as she struggled to chew. I placed another two marshmallows on my stick, sitting them back above the coals.

"Can I have your attention please campers."

All conversations stilled as we looked at Chiron. I realised that he must be about to announce that we were the demigods going on the quest and felt anticipation swirl in my stomach, along with a touch of worry.

"As you are aware, we received another Great Prophecy yesterday."

Nods around the campfire.

"We have here the names of the demigods we have chosen for the quest."

Noises of surprise and intrigued glances. I felt like sinking into the log.

"Our demigods we are sending on this quest are: Jack Herondale, Kenzie Lovelace, Celestia Lightwood…"

Hesitant applause littered the campfire.

"Zack Herondale and Nisha Ciharda."

What? The applause ramped up a couple notches as Zack and Nisha stood up, waving and winking and accepting high-fives from their friends.

"What the hell?" Celestia muttered next to me, "Why are they coming with us?"

I just shook my head. Of course he had found a way to weasel his way into the quest. He always had to steal any attention thrown my way. He winked at me from across the campfire and it took all my willpower not to hurl my marshmallow stick at him like a javelin. What was he playing at?

"They will leave tomorrow morning. Wish them well, as this is a serious matter. They might not all make it back."

That didn't silence the whoops and hollers from Zack's side of the campfire. Unbelievable. Celestia looked confused.

"Isn't it three to a quest?"

"Yep."

"Then what in Hades is going on?"

She turned to Kenzie, but she had gone to talk to Nisha. Both were laughing at something Zack had said. Celestia's face fell. Looks like it was just us. I needed to have a serious chat to my steal-the-spotlight brother. I went to get up, but Celestia grabbed my arm.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"If you're gonna start something with Zack, don't do it now. Chiron's right there and he's surrounded by those blockheads. Fight smart, Jack."

I looked at her in surprise. I thought that she was going to tell me not to fight Zack, but instead she was encouraging it? I couldn't work this girl out. So, I sat back down on the log instead, arms crossed. Celestia glanced between Zack and I.

"So, what's the deal with you two?"

I shook my head.

"He's the most lying, cheating scumbag I've ever met," I told her, "and yet he's the one that everyone chooses to adore. I don't get it."

"That's not all though, is it?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Celestia turned her gaze back to the fire. I sighed, trying to calm my rage. I'd talk to Zack in the morning.

...

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise this was the Jack-only show."

"Zack, I'm serious. What are you doing? This is my quest."

"Well, now it's our quest."

"But, why?"

 _Why do you have to constantly be in the spotlight?_ I wanted to yell at him, but I knew how that conversation ended, and I was not in the mood. Zack's face twitched up into its trademark smirk.

"Well I wanna make sure you don't mess it up, Jacky boy. This quest is a pretty big deal. And we both know how you have a history of messing stuff up…"

Big breath. Don't let him get to you. He's just trying to rile you up.

"And, plus, that Celestia girl's probably going to get herself killed anyway. She's gonna need someone to keep her safe. Clearly you don't fit the memo."

"Shut it, Zack."

He raised a pretentious eyebrow.

"Hit a sore spot did I? Like to think of yourself as her little knight in shining armour? Don't see why, she looks like you found her on the street."

"He did, as a matter of fact."

Celestia had crept up behind Zack without him noticing. I gave her a grateful smile. I had been about to knock Zack's front teeth out.

"And then he stabbed me." she continued. "Wasn't very nice of him. And then there was the incident with the cops! Don't even get me started."

Zack seemed to be floundering for words as he faced her. Clearly he hadn't expected Celestia to be around. I guess it was hardly daybreak. But he didn't know her like I did; she was an even earlier riser than I was, and that was saying something.

"And what was that about me getting myself killed?"

I could almost see Zack's thought process. Celestia was a girl. And Celestia was pissed.

Charm on.

"Sorry sweetheart, but have you actually been on a quest before? It might me a tad too dangerous for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well yeah. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Mistake. Faster than my eyes could follow, Celestia fist was slammed into Zack's nose, snapping his head back. He dropped to a knee.

"How's that for hurt?"

A little laugh slipped out of my mouth as Zack fell on his ass, hands pressed to his face.

"What's with people calling me sweetheart?" Celestia muttered to herself as she walked past me, massaging her fist, "Do I look like their sweetheart? The next goddamn person who calls me that…"

I grinned after her.

"I think I might actually enjoy this," I told Zack, crouching down to his level. He regarded me with a cold eye.

"Trust me. You won't."

I hated the way my blood ran cold at his threat, hollow as it may be. Standing up, I left him to his Celestia-induced pain. I needed to go pack my bags anyway. I still couldn't believe that we were leaving so soon. Yesterday we had no idea what we were doing, and now we had some kind of direction at least. None of us had any clue where though we were going though; we were meeting with Chiron after breakfast. Ducking into the Apollo cabin, my eyes took a second to adjust to the bright tones. I still hadn't gotten used to it over the years. At least it didn't have bats like the Hades cabin. I snatched my Adidas backpack from beside my bed, chucking it onto the rumpled covers. Clothes hit the floor as I tried to shove in as many as I could. I had no idea how long we would be gone, but Midsummer's Eve was nearly two weeks away, so I packed as much as I could squeeze in, but still carry without much trouble. Next, I packed up my toiletries before shoving them in the bag too. It was starting to look a little cramped in there. Finally, I placed some of my ambrosia and nectar stores in the front pocket, sealing the zip. Quests were dangerous, and you never knew when you might need some ambrosia. If I had some on me the day I met Celestia, then I probably wouldn't even be here right now. Not that that idea was exactly appealing. I shook the thought from my head and, hefting the bag onto my left shoulder, exited my cabin.

...

I was the last one into the Big House, so all eyes turned to me as I walked in. I placed my backpack next to my chair, feeling a little stupid once I noticed that no one else had packed yet. Sitting down, I saw that Celestia's knuckles were a rose red and I couldn't help but smirk down at my legs. Zack was starting to get the beginnings of a black eye around his right eye.

"Are you listening, Jack?"

Snapping my head up, I met Chiron's cool look. I gave an apologetic smile, and he shook his head.

"As I was saying, my final informant pulled through. We know someone who might be able to help us interpret this prophecy."

"Who?" Kenzie asked

"The prophetess, Cassandra."

Shocked silence around the room.

"Like...like _the_ Cassandra?" Celestia asked, eyes wide, "I thought Clytemnestra and Aegisthus murdered her."

"Nerd." Zack coughed into his hand, and Nisha giggled. Annabeth shot daggers their way and they both shut up.

"Yes," Chiron replied to Celestia question, "Cassandra of Troy. And yes, she was killed. But her spirit was sent to the Elysian Fields, and we have reason to believe that she has been reborn."

We all nodded thoughtfully.

"So, where are we heading?" Zack asked.

"Chicago. She was last seen in a Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church. 1017 LaSalle Drive"

"Wait. 'Last seen'? So she might not be there?"

Nisha raised a good point. What if Cassandra wasn't there? Chiron shrugged.

"Our informant was adamant that she was still there. We can only hope you find her in time and that she can help us."

Well that was a positive comment Chiron. I looked over to Celestia and Kenzie, who both looked like they were pondering what Chiron had said, plotting our route. Zack cleared his throat.

"And once we find her?"

"Well you give her the prophecy of course, and hope she knows more than we do."

"Just give her the prophecy? Are you sure that's wise Chiron? Who knows who might get their hands on it then?"

"I'm pretty sure any monster that is anywhere near us already knows what's happening, Zack," Chiron responded dryly, "So don't let it worry you."

Zack looked sour that Chiron had rebuffed him. Nisha laid a hand on his forearm.

"He's got a point, Chiron. Can we trust this Cassandra girl?"

Nisha widened her eyes at Chiron, pretending to look scared, a ploy I had seen her use many times before to get what she wanted. I frowned at them. What were they doing? Were they trying to get the quest called off or something? In answer to Nisha's question, Chiron simply shrugged.

"There is no way of knowing. My informant is trustworthy, so I believe his information to be true."

That was enough for me, but I could see Nisha and Zack weren't satisfied.

"So when do we leave?" Celestia asked, raising her head from where it was staring at the ground.

"As soon as possible," Annabeth answered, "The faster we can get this prophecy figured out, the sooner we can stop Chaos from rising."

Okay then. There was a heavy silence as we all regarded each other.

"Ten?"

I glanced at the oak clock on the wall. It was around eight thirty now. I nodded.

"Ten it is."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	15. 15: Ash

Hey Guys!

Next chapter! Back to Ash we go. This one you'll get a little more insight into what life is like at the Institute too, so enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-15-

Ash

* * *

Deep, shuddering breaths. Don't let it take over. Breathe in. Out. I couldn't stop my arms shaking, and knees jumping up and down where they were pressed against my chest. Just breathe. I caught my breath before I hiccuped a sob, a hand pressed to my mouth. Try and forget. Don't think about it. Don't even think about thinking about it. Just breathe.

But it came rushing back.

The smoke. The flames. The heat. The screams.

A scream of my own clawed up my throat, trying to escape. I bit down hard on my hand, pain rocketing up my arm, distracting me from by aching heart and brain. I needed to get myself under control. Soon I was going to attract attention to myself, and that only ended with punishment. With an effort that took more out of me than it should have, I drew my hand away from my face, clenching it into a fist. Slowing my breathing, I wiped away the wetness on my cheeks. I had to get myself under control. Finally, my breathing didn't hitch as much as it had before. The nightmare's claws were leaving my mind, but I still felt shaky. Vulnerable. My limbs were trembling as I lifted them over the edge of my bed. I needed a shower to rid myself of this stickiness. My pace stilled as I noticed the light on in the bathroom and the empty bed four across to my left.

Crap.

I couldn't go in there like this. It was a surefire way to get caught. I didn't even know if she had seen me. The sound of droplets of water hitting the tiles reached my ears. They were in the shower. Maybe they hadn't seen me. But when they came out they would. Would notice the rumpled, sweat-stained sheets. I wouldn't be able to mimic sleeping like this. I needed to get the hell out of here. Get to somewhere safe, somewhere where I could regain my composure, regain my sanity, without worrying about getting caught.

I knew just the place.

...

Barefoot, I padded through the stone halls, the only light source cast from the torches lining the walls. The institute seemed so medieval at times. I kept my step soft and my ears perked. If anyone saw me in the halls, I was screwed. Out after curfew. Such a normal rule for such a abnormal place. Slipping into a crevice in the wall, I watched and waited as a guard strolled past. It wasn't the guards I was worried about; compared to the students here, they were bumbling buffoons. It was teachers or older students, people who knew the good hiding places and how to conceal yourself. They were the dangerous ones. The guard disappeared around the corner and I continued on my way. I tried not to let my mind wander as I walked. It would eventually lead back to my nightmare, and I had just gotten myself back under control. Another light in the distance. Another guard.

I glanced around quickly, looking for the closest shadow. There. I dashed forward, curling myself into the darkness, making myself scarce. Footsteps echoed down the hall as the guard stomped past. In a couple seconds, he too was safely around the corner. I released the terse breath I was holding and stepped back out into the corridor. My leg brushed something metal as I stood, knocking it off balance. I spun around, but it was too late. The torch and accompanying stand came crashing to the ground, sending a rattling clang through the halls. I heard a shout around the corner as the guard heard me. Shoot. I turned and sprinted down the hallway, struggling to keep my footfalls silent. I rounded the corner, nearly slipping, before regaining my balance and rushing forward again. I heard heavy footsteps behind me as the guard neared where I was just hiding. I had only just made it in time. But I needed to keep moving. That would have alerted the guards to my presence. I jogged down the halls, eyes and ears now perked for incoming guards. Finally, I rounded the last corner, coming to a halt before the headmaster's wooden doors. I took a large breath, hand pressed to my chest. Then I walked forward. Walking past the headmaster's door, I came to a small wooden door instead, located down the hallway to the left. Not many people knew about this room. I was probably one of the only few. But it was my safe place, the one place I could go when I needed a break from life here at the Institute.

...

I knocked softly on the door, trying to get the attention of the person inside without sending guards running my way. A thump sounded inside, followed by a couple seconds of rustling. The door was cracked open and Damien's drowsy face filled the gap.

"Ash? What are you doing?" His voice was soft and sleepy. He paused to yawn. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head a little and Damien opened his door wide, allowing me access. I slipped in and Damien shut the door behind me.

"Ash, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Nightmare."

Damien's eyes filled with realisation and understanding. He followed me to where I had sat down heavily on his rumpled bed.

"Same again?"

I nodded. Damien placed an arm around my shoulder, drawing me into his chest. I relaxed gratefully, feeling instantly more at ease.  
"I thought you weren't getting these anymore."

"So did I. Guess not."

My voice was muffled by his shirt. He ran a hand reassuringly up and down my back and I felt the tension leave my body.

"You remember when you had your first one?"

I nodded. How could I not? I had been nine at the time, not even a year into my stay here.

...

I had run through the halls, trying not to scream, before curling in a little ball in a dark, concealed corner, rocking slowly back and forth and trying to dispel the images from my head. It turned out it was right outside Damien's room that I had chosen to hide. He had been coming back from training, fresh black eye forming, when he had seen me. His eyes had gone wide and he had taken a cautious step forward as he recognised me.

"Ash. Are you okay?"

I had drawn myself in closer, afraid of him. Afraid of what he might do, who he might tell. Damien had taken another step closer.

"What's wrong?"

I hadn't answered, so Damien had gone inside his room. I had placed my head in my hands, silent sobs racking my body. I was so worried that he would tell someone, that I would get caught for crying, for freaking out like this. But instead, Damien had come back out of his room with a blanket, which he then wrapped around my shoulders. With a little groan he had sat next to me in the corridor.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He had asked, eyes sincere.

Gods, he had been so nice to me. He took me into his room, closing the door to give me some privacy. He shared his last bit of hoarded chocolate out of his drawer and eventually pried the story out of me. He had sat there, listening to me detailing my nightmare, before standing up and doing something that surprised me.

He drew me into a hug. I remembered the shock I had felt, my body tensing up in anticipation of some kind of attack. But it had just been a warm, comforting hug.

...

Damien pulled me into one now, chin resting on the top of my head, breaking me out of my memory.

"Couldn't get back to sleep?"

I shook my head.

"You wanna stay here?"

A nod.

Damien gently pushed me off him, moving to his cupboard to grab the spare blanket he kept around for me. I often stayed here when I wasn't feeling safe, or was worried, or

just couldn't sleep. No one ever checked if I was here, and I just had to make it back to the dormitory by morning. I shuffled over as Damien sat next to me again. I reached

over and laid a light finger on the scratch on this cheek. He winced.

"How's it feel?"

"You just poked it, how do you think it feels?"

I smiled.

"Serious."

"It's fine. I'll be back to my usual gorgeous self in a couple days, don't you worry."

I rolled my eyes.

"So how did the fight look from where you were?" Damien inquired, "Was it badass?"

I scoffed. "I thought they were gonna give you a beating."

"Bull."

"Not kidding."

"Well they didn't, did they? That'll show you for doubting my skills."

He gave my shoulder a shove and I pushed him off the bed. He landed with a thump and a laugh.

"You're just lucky I was there calling the shots for you."

"Oh yeah?" Damien asked from the ground, "How so?"

"Didn't you hear my 'Switch it up , Damien'?"

He shook his head, eyes amused.

"Nope. Yell it louder next time."

"There's not gonna be a next time. It's me who's fighting next."

Damien's playful expression dropped.

"Yeah."

"...What?"

He shrugged.

"If my father increased the odds for me, I'm worried about what he'll do for yours."

"Well, I am clearly the better fighter."

"Ash, I'm serious. What if he makes you fight twenty dudes or something stupid like that?"

"Then I'll fight them. No biggie."

"Yes biggie. That was hard, Ash. That fight. I couldn't have died a couple times. I don't want that to happen to you. Ever."

There was such raw emotion in his voice that I had to look away.

"It won't," I promised, "I won't die on you, Damien Morgenstern."

A silence fell, suffocating the room. I tried to lighten the mood.

"So, my birthday next. What'd you get me?"

"What?"

"My present. Come on, spill."

"I haven't gotten you anything yet."

I mocked despair.

"But Damien! I got you such an expensive brooch! How, oh how, will your present for me ever possibly top that?"

"Was it really that expensive?"

"You're kinda missing the point of my monologue here."

"How much did you spend on it?"

"Only a couple weeks allowance."

"Ash!"

"What? It really suited you and it was a couple weeks till your birthday, so…"

"I'll get you an even better gift then."

I rolled my eyes. He narrowed his at me.

"Is that a challenge I sense there, Ash?"

I wiggled my eyebrows at him. With a grin, he shrugged.

"Done. you are going to get the best birthday present ever now."

"Oh yeah? Any ideas?"

He shrugged.

"I got a couple weeks."

He was right. A couple weeks and then I was twelve too. A couple weeks and we would get our first assignment. Damien seemed to have read my mind.

"Nervous?"

"Why would I be?"

"Have you heard what they ask you to do?"

I had. Not that my sources were necessarily reliable. But even if they weren't it was enough to make me worried. Would I really have to...

"Well, I'm worried," Damien confessed, "What if I can't do what they ask me too?"

I dropped down next to him on the floor, both of us staring at his plain ceiling.

"Then we'll work it out. We're partners. We're in this together."

Damien still held a worried expression.

"I just...I don't think I can...you know."

I sighed.

"Me neither. But we're gonna have to Damien, if we want to stay here. It's part of the memo, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

He turned to me, lying on this side. "You ever thought about leaving?"

Such a dangerous question. It had often crossed my mind.

"Yeah," I answered, "But where would we go?"

"We?" He smirked, "Who said anything about we?" I shoved his shoulder and he chuckled. "Fine. We. Entertain me. Where would we go, if we could? If we had no worries, no restraints."

"Europe."

"Europe? Setting the bar high there, Ash. Where in Europe?"

"I dunno. Maybe somewhere like Wales or Scotland."

"Ireland's my choice."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mm. Accents, beer, what more would you want."

"Wow, turning twelve changed you."

His mouth tweaked up into a smile.

"Yep. I'm all mature now. You better watch out."

Damien laughed, and then quickly stifled it, glancing at the door.

He seemed to gaze at it for a second, and I couldn't help but imagine his father sitting at his desk across the hall.

"Have you made any progress with him?"

Damien shook his head.

"Still hardly knows I exist. I didn't even get a congratulations for passing my initiation. Just a dismissal."

I felt so unhappy, looking at Damien's woeful features. His father never noticed him; after his mum had died, Damien had basically had no one. Instead of becoming closer with his son, Damien's father had drawn away, burying himself in his work. Damien had tried to get his attention, tried to do well in classes, but he hadn't been very strong, or fast, or witty.

Well, that was before I met him.

...

I still remembered my first training session with Damien. We had both stood there awkwardly, arms by our sides. Neither of us knew where to start.

"Do you wanna fight or something?"

Damien had shrugged.

"I don't really know how to fight. I always lose."

"Me too."

We had both realised we weren't going to be much help to each other in the fighting department. So we played to our strengths; we researched. We spent endless nights in the Institute's library, researching and learning. We tried out new techniques on each other in the back room, we kept notes of tips for fighting and learnt how to read and anticipate an attack. Soon we at least had some knowledge of what were we supposed to be doing.

Then, came the practical side of it. We were both horrible at it. We knew the theory, but we couldn't get our bodies to respond properly. So we trained. Over and over and over again. Until our bodies moved like clockwork and our movements flowed easily. Soon we began making up our own movement, our fights were lasting longer and then one day, Damien won his first fight. He had come back with a broken arm and a swelling eye, but he had won. And things just looked up from there. Our academic studies were easy, and with our fighting skills came a patience and precision that was immensely helpful in the classroom. And we never stopped training. Eventually we started to win most of our fights, and then all of then, and then we were the undefeated champions. Until the instructor decided to pit us against each other, then I was the undefeated fighter. Damien had taken the defeat graciously, but I loved to needle him about it as often as I could.

"-catch us?" Damien asked.

"Hmm?"

"If we tried to leave. Do you think they would catch us?"

"Probably. It's what they do, isn't it?"

"But if we laid low, kept off the radar. Do you think we could stay hidden?"

"I could. You're the headmaster's kid. They wouldn't let you get away. Me, I'm nobody, just another student here. No one would care much if I went missing."

"Unless you went to the authorities."

"Touché."

"So you don't think we could escape? Just leave."

I shook my head.

"I wish we could, Damien. But we belong to the institute now. They own us. The sooner you realise that, the better."

It came out harsher than I intended, and Damien gave me a hurt expression.

"I didn't mean it like..."

"No. I know."

Great. Another silence fell. Damien was scanning the ceiling again. I looked up too.

"You should do something to that. It looks so boring."

"Boring?"

"Boring. Drab. Plain. Whatever you want to call it, it sucks."

"Well, what would you suggest?"

I looked at it again.

"Paint it."

"Are you kidding me?"

"What! You are the only student who actually has a room to themselves, and it looks like it was designed by a brain-dead zombie. Spruce it up a bit."

Damien seemed to ponder this over.

"And what colour would you suggest?"

"Pink?"

"Not happening."

"What about a dark blue, like the night sky?"

"Nope. Wait...that actually sounds like it could be a cool idea."

I gave him a smug smile.

"Told you I was good."

"I'll think about it. How are you feeling now?"

So much better. I don't know how Damien did it, but all remnants of the nightmare were gone. I lifted my hands in front of my face, curling them into firm fists.

"I think I'm good now."

"Do you wanna…"

"No. But I probably should."

"Yeah, it's probably for the best."

What was this awkward atmosphere that had settled over us? Was it because I kissed his cheek? Gods I hoped not. It was just a spur of the moment thing. It didn't mean anything. Right? Damien opened the door for me, first checking that the corridor was deserted. I stopped in the doorway.

"Bye."

"Bye."

We looked at each other for a little longer than necessary.

"Bye."

"Bye."

Right. I needed to move. But I didn't want to go. Not really. I forced my legs to move and I started walking back to my dormitory. I glanced back. Damien was still watching me, but he quickly looked away when our eyes met. He raised a hand in goodbye and went back into his room. I set back off for my room.

...

"Avoid getting the acid on your hands, it may sting a little."

Mr Szilard gave a small chuckle to himself. We all stared at him.

"Fine, fine, whatever. Just mix your ingredients. Why I even bother..."

I turned back to my bench, bottle in each hand. We were learning how to craft an explosive that would incapacitate the victim for a possible four hours, with no lingering effects. Pretty handy. I poured the two liquids together, averting my gaze so that I didn't damage my eyes. A slight fizzing noise came from my bottle as they combined. An acidic smell invaded my nose. Did that mean it was working? I certainly hoped so. A boy across the room doubled over in a coughing fit, eyes watering. Mr Szilard shook his head, eyes disdainful.

"What did I say? No smelling the concoction. God, it's like I'm talking to myself over here."

I snuck a glance at my reaction, which had settled down. It was a vibrant orange. Looking at the colour pallet on the board for reference, I added more base until it was sitting around a 4 on the pH scale. That's where I wanted it to be. I gave the vial one last twirl, before settling it on a test-tube rack. I was stripping off my gloves and glasses when a loud crack interrupted. It was the loudspeaker.

"Students, please be advised that there had been a spillage in one of the science labs, and to avoid the cordoned off area. Thank you."

We all recognised the signal. Instantly, the class sprung to their feet, already beginning to strip the buckles and padding off of their gear. I chose a cabinet to my right, shoving my armoured sleeves inside. My elbow guards, light chest-plate, utility belt, hilts and leg armour quickly followed, leaving an indistinguishable pile of black leather. Someone had flung the text books out of the filing cabinet and I snatched one off the desk, flipping open to a random page and settling into a seat. Around me, everyone else did the same while Mr Szilard hastily cleaned off our toxic formulas, and instead drew up the basic structure of an atom.

"Uh, let's go...125."

We all followed his directions, flipping to the correct page. To add the final touch, Mr Szilard pulled a pair of wire-rimmed glasses out of his pocket, fitting them snugly on the bridge of his nose.

"Alright guys, just review the chemical equation for the experiment we just did while we wait."

Everyone murmured amongst themselves, but kept a sharp focus on the door. We were waiting for the inspector.

...

Basically, in the government's' eyes, we were an orphanage. A safe home for runaway and unwanted children, that specialised in orphaned children. This cover allowed us to operate practically unnoticed and ungoverned. The only problem was, as required by regulation, every couple of weeks or so we had an inspection. In a normal orphanage, we would dress up in out Sunday best and line up, after making everything look pristine of course. But here, things were much different. First, we stripped down our combat gear, leaving most people with a black outfit. Then, we pretended whatever class we were doing wasn't about drugging people or stealing. Us, we pretending we were a normal science class learning about the structure of an atom. The archery class would quickly hide their targets in the underground burrows, and then act like a normal physical education class. If any one was out hunting, it became a 'nature walk'. And we sat there, pretending to be pretending to be paying attention. Most of the time, the inspector didn't even visit our classroom. But you could never be too careful. All it took was one knife lying around, or one too many students with bruises, and we had a whole investigation on our hands. We never knew when the inspector was coming either; they liked to catch the orphanage headmasters by surprise. That's what the message over the intercom was. A warning. It varied, sometimes a spill in the science labs, sometimes a lunch menu update. But it meant, drop everything now, the inspector was here. I sighed and drew a little squiggle on my desk. This was boring.

"-we have our science class."

My head jerked up in surprise. The headmaster was leading an older, balding man into our classroom. The inspector? Crap. We all collectively straightened ourselves and glanced at Mr Szilard. He was watching the headmaster.

"Morning, Mr Morgenstern. How are you doing?"

"Not too bad, Mr Szilard. This is Mr Smith, our inspector."

As Mr Szilard sprung forward to shake the inspectors hand, I suppressed the urge to grin to myself. Mr Smith. It sounds like someone's first, horrible attempt at a fake I.D.

"So what are you learning about here kiddos?" Mr Smith asked, tone jolly, but eyes watchful.

"Atoms, sir," we all responded, with some variations.

The inspector nodded, before stepping fully into the classroom and looking around with a critical eye. He noticed the text-tubes lined up along the back bench.

"Experiment?"

"Yes, the students are testing the acidity of certain household items. Perfectly safe, I can assure you."

The inspector huffed, but moved on much to my relief. Taking notes on his clipboard, Mr Smith completed his rounds. He was about to say something, when something caught his eye. The class all held their breath, myself included. Mr Smith leaned down and pulled the buckled, black breastplate out of the cupboard.

"What's this?"

Silence.

Finally, Mr Morgenstern spoke up.

"It must be part of a costume. Is it for one of your end-of-year performances?"

He looked pointedly around the room, and we understood the underlying question; who's was this?

A girl in the row behind me tentatively raised a hand.

"Sorry sir, that's mine."

Mr Smith handed it over and the girl held it uncomfortably in her lap. He turned back to the headmaster.

"Alright, I've seen enough here."

Mr Morgenstern nodded and opened the door wide. As the inspector left Mr Morgenstern turned back to the classroom. He glared at the girl. Her gaze was fearful as he left the room.

"Back to your experiments!"

We all walked back to our benches, eye kept on the girl clutching her breastplate. I was glad I wasn't in her shoes. She was going to be in big trouble.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	16. 16: Celestia

Hey Guys!

The quest has begun! Back to Celestia, and still no reappearance of the mysterious POV. Any guesses yet? Hope you enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-16-

Celestia

* * *

The sky was a deep blue streaked with orange when I woke. I took a second to glance around my new room. It had plain white walls, with exposed oak wooden beams. The windows had a slightly blue tint to them, which cast a sky-blue light around the room. Pushing the cotton sheets off my body, I blinked to clear my eyes. That was the best night sleep I'd had in...well, in weeks. I pushed my arms high, cracking my spine. We were leaving for the quest today. I chucked on some sweats and sneakers, planning to go for a morning run to wake myself up and clear my head. Laces tied and hair up in a loose ponytail, I padded through the Athena cabin, nearly running into a wall at one point. I was still getting the hang of this place.

Stepping outside, the fresh morning air invaded my nose and I took a long, deep breath, allowing it to wake me up. My pace was fairly casual as I jogged. I didn't know this terrain and didn't want to injure myself right before a quest. It seemed like a pretty big deal. Like, end of the world big deal. I shook the thought from my head, letting the pounding of my feet drive out any and all other thoughts. Out of the cluster of cabins. I raised a hand to a girl sitting on the Apollo cabin porch, coffee clutched firmly in hands. She nodded at me before turning back to her warm beverage. I moved past the stables, narrowly avoiding a fresh deposit on the grass. The surface of the lake glittered alluringly at me, appealing to my sweaty body. I was coming around behind the Big House, headed back towards my cabin when I saw Jack and Zack. It was honestly a marvel I hadn't heard them, because they were in a heated argument, toes pressed together and noses mere inches apart. I quickened my pace, ready to interfere if I needed to.

"Don't see why, she looks like you found her on the street." I heard Zack spit, clearly talking about me. Jack looked like he was about to go atomic on him, so I spoke up.

"He did, as a matter of fact," I informed him, noticing the look of surprise and hidden relief on Jack's face, "And then he stabbed me. Wasn't very nice. And then there was the incident with the cops! Don't even get me started."

I let my face relax into a smug, confident smirk. Zack seemed taken aback that I had appeared behind him.

"And what was that about me getting myself killed?" I asked with mock sweetness, eyes narrowed.

Zack clearly didn't get the 'apologise right now' hint, because he smiled at me instead of cowering. He leaned forward like he was telling me a secret. I resisted the urge to slap him.

"Sorry sweetheart, but have you actually been on a quest before? It might me a tad too dangerous for you."

Oh, really. That's the tactic he was taking? Demeaning me in an attempt to...flatter me? Right. I saw Jack raise his eyebrows at Zack, clearing anticipating my answer.

"Oh yeah?"

"Well yeah. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

That's it. Wrapping my fingers into a fist, I felt a satisfying crack, followed by an aching pain that shot up my arm. I seemed to be punching a lot of people at this camp. Zack fell to a knee, and then onto his behind, hand pressed to a lightly bleeding nose. Clenching and unclenching my fist to try to relieve some pain, I continued on my way back to my cabin. Jack let out a hardly constrained laugh as I walked past, eyes wide in shock and amusement.

"What's with people calling me sweetheart?" I muttered to myself as I walked past him, "Do I look like their sweetheart? The next goddamn person who calls me that I swear, I going to impale."

...

Stepping back in the Athena cabin, I was confronted by Annabeth who took in my bruising hand almost instantly.

"What happened?"

"Punched some dude in the face. Don't, don't," Annabeth looked like she was about to go off, "they deserved it okay? They insulted Jack and they insulted me."

Realisation filled Annabeth's eyes and she raised her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Zack?"

"Yup. He had it coming."

"Don't you get caught up between those boys, Celestia. There's a lot of history that you don't understand."

"I'm sure there is. But he insults me, I punch him. It's pretty simple."

"And if he insults Jack?"

"I'll let him handle it. I actually defused the situation. Jack looked like he was about to break something worse than a nose."

Annabeth was about to say something more, when little Bianca grabbed the bottom of her shirt.

"Mamma, can I have some brekkie please? I'm hungry."

"Sure honey. I'll be in the kitchen in a sec."

"M'kay."

Bianca raced back into the kitchen, hands trailing on the walls. Wasn't she just a little cutie? Annabeth turned back to me.

"That actually isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's up?"

"It's about your parents. But I have to make Bianca some breakfast, and you have to go to the meeting with Chiron, so I'll tell you later, okay."

I nodded, but my mind was racing. Finally, some information about my parents. I quickly changed into my CHB shirt and some jeans, heading to the Big House for our quest brief.

...

I massaged my fist in my lap as I sat in the meeting with Chiron, probably looking like I wasn't listening. I was, but I was more trying to figure out how this quest was going to work. Basically, we go to Chicago. We figure out where Cassandra is, and ask for her help. If all goes well, then she'll tell us it's just a big misunderstanding and that Chaos wasn't rising. Not likely, but hey, a girl could hope. More likely, she'll tell us what we have to do to stop this guy from wiping out the planet.

"So when do we leave?" I asked, filling the silence.

We decided on ten, and then dispersed to pack our bags. I was strolling back to the Athena cabin when Jack jogged up beside me.

"Hey."

"Hey. How's your hand?"

I showed him the slight bruising around my knuckles. My fault. I shouldn't have aimed for his nose. Jack smirked.

"Well you gave him one hell of a black eye."

I had noticed. Zack had kept fingering the bruise during the meeting, before jerking his hands away when it hurt. It was pretty entertaining to watch.

Jack held a hand out to me as we walked.

"Here."

"...What?"

"Give me your hand."

"Why?"

"Just give it."

"But why?"

We had reached the Athena cabin and stopped outside the front door. Jack looked imploringly at me.

"Hand."

I rolled my eyes, but placed my hand in his. His fingers tightened around it and he drew me a smidge closer. He closed his eyes.

"What are you-."

"Shh."

I closed my mouth, feeling stupid. Suddenly, my hand started tingling, along the knuckles where the bruising was. A soft golden glow emitted from Jack's fist and brightness streaked his veins. I watched in surprise as his eyes turned yellow like a cat as they met mine with a smirk. It faded as Jack withdrew his hand from mine, balling his hands into his hoodie pockets. I wiggled my fingers, the pain and bruises gone.

"What the hell?"

He smiled, blue eyes still with a gold tinge around their pupil.

"Healing power. Perks of being a descendant of Apollo."

"Does it hurt?"

Jack smothered his surprised expression and shook his head a little. "No. I doesn't hurt."

A niggling feeling that he was lying tugged at the corner of my mind, but I let it slide.

"Well, thanks."

"No problem."

Jack gave me a quick smile before strolling back down the cabin's front steps. I watched him go. There was something about him that I just didn't get. Another thought threatened to surface, but I shook it from my head, turning back to the door. I walked casually to my room, dodging out of other camper's ways as everyone else began to wake up. I pulled my backpack out from under my bed, repacking it again after only a couple days. It wasn't exactly how I planned my visit here. I was thinking more...well I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted to find out something about my parents. A stab of anticipation pierced my heart as I remembered Annabeth's promise to tell me about them. But I pushed it aside, focussing on my packing. A couple of sets of clothes. My toiletries. A spare pair of sneakers in case I ruined the ones I was wearing. I regarded my current outfit. Jeans, the CHB shirt and sneakers. As good as anything to start a quest, I figured. Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I realised that my books were still sitting on my bedside table.

Books. Or bag-space?

I grabbed my latest book, 'Lair of Dreams', carefully placing it into my bag to make sure the page ends didn't bend or crease. One would be fine. Making sure my earrings were secure and my necklace was sitting comfortably on my collarbone, I stepped out of my new room, trying to commit the details to memory. My new room. It was hard for me to process that this was my home now. That I was going on a life or death quest. That I held the fate of the world as we knew it in my hands. All my brain seemed to be telling me was that I had made it. I had made it to Camp Half-Blood, and I would find out about my parents. It overshadowed every other thought.

"Hey, aren't you one of the people going on the Chaos quest?"

A girl around my age was leaning in her doorway down the hall, gaze curious. I was pretty sure her name was Lily. Or maybe Laura?

"Yeah. That's me."

She nodded.

"Good luck. You're gonna need it. Quests are brutal."

She gave me a hesitant smile, before ducking back into her room. The weight of this quest started to settle on my shoulders. Everyone was relying on us to take down Chaos. To stop him from entering into this world. We would stop him. No matter the cost.

...

I bumped my bag into Kenzie's as I came to a stop beside her. Her face was troubled when she looked at me.

"Aren't you nervous? I feel like I'm gonna chuck my guts here."

I shook my head.

"Kinda numb."

Kenzie laughed, before agreeing. She glanced over my shoulder.

"Hiya, Jack."

He had a black nike bag flung over one shoulder and his hands tucked desolately into a new hoodie. He looked a little miserable. I noticed why as I saw Zack and Nisha following behind him, walking with their arms around each other's waists. They both erupted into giggles as they reached our group, and I noticed Zack's eye was no longer bruised.

"And then I said, why don't you?" Zack exclaimed, making Nisha burst into a new fit of giggles.

"Oh, hey guys, you ready to go?"

Jack and I mumbled under our breaths, but Kenzie's face lit up.

"Hell yeah! Are you guys?"

She skipped over to where Zack and Nisha were standing, leaning companionably on Nisha's shoulder. I exchanged a look with Jack, who looked uninterested. I had figured Kenzie was friends with that lot, but I guess a small part of me had hoped she wasn't. I didn't like Zack, or his raven-haired girlfriend, and clearly neither did Jack. It would have been nice to have Kenzie share our view. I honestly didn't see what everyone saw in Zack. Maybe because I got Jack's side of the story before I got Zack's, but he just seemed like an arrogant prat. I sighed, turning back to look at the edge of the forest. Well we were stuck on this quest together anyway. It really didn't matter what I thought of them.

"Hey, Celestia, can I grab you real quick?"

It was Annabeth. She gestured to the Big House and started walking, indicating I should follow. Jack gave me a questioning look.

"Everything good?"

"Yeah. Annabeth's just going to tell me about my parents, I think."

Zack's eyes widened behind us.

"You're parents. Who are they again?" His tone was rude, so I didn't answer, containing my anger.

Just.

"Please don't leave me here with them," Jack whispered to me. "I might kill someone."

"Just make it clean," I told him, setting off after Annabeth. He chuckled behind me.

...

Annie was waiting in the pingpong room of the Big House, twirling a racket in her hand. She seemed lost for words.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Anything. Anything is good."

She thought for a second.

"I didn't know Nyssa very well. We didn't have much in common and never really spoke. But Malcolm, Malcolm was my brother. He was a genius, I swear. He had such a talent for our blueprints and design. Out of nowhere he would just come up with these amazing ideas, that didn't seem like they would work at first, but they did. They always did. He didn't even tell us about him and Nyssa. It just kinda came up one day. He loved her so much."

She tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear self consciously.

"Sorry I'm kind of rambling."

"Please, don't stop," I implored, and Annabeth continued after a pause.

"They brought you in one day, after we defeated Gaia. You were so tiny. You wouldn't remember it, of course, but you spent the day in the Athena cabin and the Hephaestus cabin. We took turns holding you in our arms. Nyssa was so good with you too. She could silence you with just a couple of murmured words in your ears. Malcolm wasn't quite as good, but he just sung the Periodic Table song until you drifted off to sleep in his arms."

Tears started to collect in the corners of my eyes, but I forced them back.

"How did they die?"

Annabeth's expression changed from reminiscent to solemn in an instant.

"It was during Lycaon's attack. They weren't supposed to be there; we hadn't sent word for them to come help. They had just somehow heard what was happening and come as fast as they could. Chiron, he was helping some children back into the Big House, when he was attacked by a griffon. Your parents stepped in to defend him. They fought the monsters off for a couple of minutes, but there were so many and there were only two of them..."

Loss settled in my heart. But my mind was replaying the way Annabeth had said children over and over.

"Who were the children?"

Annabeth looked a little uncomfortable.

"Well, Celestia, you can't blame them okay. There were only eight. They weren't supposed to be there either."

But she had piqued my interest.

"Who?"

"The Herondale boys. Jack and Zack."

The pieces fell into place in my mind. Jack and Zack's father had been killed. Chiron had taken them to safety. Then Chiron had gotten attacked, and my parents had defended him and then… Annabeth was watching me carefully. But that meant...

"So if Jack and Zack hadn't been on the battlefield, my parents might still be alive.?"

"Maybe. There is no way of knowing for sure."

That information spiralled around my head. My parent's death was caused by Zack. By Jack. But I couldn't blame them. No, of course not, they were only eight Annabeth had said, the same age as I was. I couldn't hold this against them.

"Why were they there?" I asked, trying to keep my voice questioning but not accusatory.

"Their father was visiting," Annabeth replied, clearly lost in a memory, "the boys hadn't been to Camp Half-Blood before so they begged their father to take them. They were told to wait in the Big House when Lycaon attacked, but they tried to find their dad. He was fighting against some empousai in the strawberry fields and when he heard them yelling, he turned and ..."

I got the point.

"Thanks, Annabeth."

"Just call me Annie. Everybody does."

She gave me a saddened smile and I gave her one in return.

"Anything else you want to ask me, just let me know, okay? I have some photos I could show you sometime if...you know."

If I make it back alive from this quest. If Chaos doesn't rise and damn our world to eternal mayhem. But I nodded.

My legs felt a little shaky as I walked back to my questing group. I wasn't exactly in the right mindset for this now. I wanted to just sit down for a while, in peace, and ponder over what Annie had told me. It was a lot to take in. Maybe I could ask Chiron for some photos some time. My parent's faces were like old photographs in my mind; the general shape was there, but the details were too blurry to make out. I knew my father had blonde hair, but I couldn't remember if he had freckles lining his nose, or if I got that from mum. I remember she had the smile that I see sometimes in the mirror, but I forgot how her eyes crinkle when she laughs.

"You alright?"

Jack looked worried. I snapped out my thoughtful daze.

"Yeah. I'm good. Just thinking about stuff."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah."

"You two done over there?"

It was Zack, eyebrows raised in our direction. Jack rolled his eyes, and I followed him to where everyone else was standing. Zack clasped his hands together, making a small clap.

"Well, while you two were having a heart to heart over _there_ , we over _here_ have come to a consensus. We have voted myself, Zack Herondale, as the leader for this quest. Any objections?"

"Several."

Jack looked furious. Zack simply smiled.

"Pray tell brother, what are your complaints? I await you."

Nisha giggled, but Kenzie didn't, even looking slightly uncomfortable. Maybe she wasn't as chummy with Zack as she let on. Jack rose to this brother's bait.

"Who put you in charge here, Zack?"

"I thought I said consensus...didn't I speak loud enough for you?"

"This isn't your quest Zack," Jack fumed.

"I thought we had this conversation. Chiron was cool with it. Done-zo, case closed."

Jack didn't seem to be able to put his anger into words, lapsing into a irritated silence, which Zack took as a victory.

"Great! Let's get going then, shall we?"

Zack pulled out a map.

"Chicago...Chicago..."

Nisha pointed to the dot on the map. Zack grinned at her, darting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks babe."

Between those two lovebirds and Jack and Zack's fighting, this quest was going to be a nightmare. Zack glanced around the clearing.

"So we need to head...that way."

He was wrong. I had checked the map earlier. I pointed further northwest.

"That's actually closer to Chicago. We need to go that way."

"This way it is!" announced Zack, completely ignoring my remark. I shot Jack an exasperated look, but he didn't seem to notice. He was kicking a small rock around with the toe of his shoe. Great. Kenzie was up front with Zack and Nisha, laughing as Zack made a funny face. I had to choose between a moody teen and a group of people who hated me. Even better. I wished feverishly for some music, some headphones, but I had learnt long ago that technology was a no-no. So, I kept my gaze firmly ahead, drowning out Zack, Nisha and Kenzie with the plodding of my feet as we began our quest.

...

"You guys want some snacks?"

Kenzie's voice rung out from my left.

"What?"

"Snacks. We were going to stop at the shop up ahead and grab some."

I glanced at the sun.

"It's literally been less than an hour. We aren't even off Long Island yet."

Kenzie shrugged.

"It was Zack's idea."

She seemed to read the annoyance on my face.

"He's not always that bad..."

Kenzie followed my pointed look at Jack. She twisted her mouth, looking conflicted.

"I just don't see why you put up with him."

"Well...it's him and Nisha, you know? I've learnt to work with him, but I get it, he take a bit of getting used to."

"What does Nisha have to do with anything?"

"We have a history. She's the one who brought me to camp."

Huh. That kinda make sense then. Nisha squealed up ahead as Zack swung her in his arms, her dark hair flying around like it was in a wind tunnel. They stumbled off the sidewalk, nearly bumping into a car that was parked nearby, before jumping away. Kenzie watched them with something like fascination, and maybe a touch of jealousy.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"I'm sorry about them. I don't agree with them insulting Jack, especially the kinda stuff Zack says. He's not as bad as I thought he was. Jack that it. Zack always made him out to be, like, this really salty dude who hates everyone and everything, and like, kicks puppies. But, he seems pretty chill. I hope we can still be friends."

Kenzie held an earnest expression, but there was an underlying expression of defeat, like she had already accepted that I was disgusted with her. But I wasn't, not really. I got it. I smiled.

"Still friends. Just, don't let them speak for you. You're your own person."

"Yeah." Kenzie didn't look convinced.

"Yo, Kenz, get up here!" Nisha called, smile wide on her face.

Kenzie gave me an apologetic smile, before darting off after Nisha. Nisha wrapped an arm around Kenzie's shoulder, drawing her in and rubbing a playful fist on her head. They seemed like good friends. But I still didn't understand them. Or why there was so much hostility between Jack and Zack. Or why Zack was such a douche. To be honest, I didn't know much about these people at all. I slowed my pace to drop back with Jack as the others jumped down into the small shops parking lot.

"You okay?"

He shrugged.

"He's not going to take the quest seriously. Everything's a joke to him. This is important."

"We'll just have to make sure it gets done then. Why are he and Nisha even here?"

"I asked Chiron before we left. Something about Nisha having quest experience and Zack wanting to 'protect his little bro', and because he is one of the best fighters in camp. Its all bull. Zack doesn't care, and the one quest Nisha went on, she got cursed."

I hadn't heard about this.

"What happened?"

"Basically she went on a quest with two other demigods. Nothing for three weeks, and then she comes stumbling back into camp half-dead, with a crying Kenzie on her arm. The story is the dudes she went with were killed and she was cursed. She de-aged. She went from a fifteen-year-old to an twelve-year-old just like that. Within a week she had lost four years of her life. Or gained, I guess?"

Wow. I regarded Nisha in a new, slightly less harsh light. Wait.

"Hold up, Kenzie?"

"Yeah. Nisha found her on streets in Colorado, near the state border. She was being attacked by a chimera. Nisha saved her and brought her to camp."

Fair enough then that Kenzie and Nisha were friends. Seems like they had been through a lot together. Jack and I waited outside, watching as the other three dashed around the aisles, piling arms full of snacks. They reached the counter, before stopping and hurriedly patting themselves down.

"Do they have any money?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Do you?"

"Yep."

"Do you wanna tell them?"

"Nope."

Fine by me. Panic made its way across Kenzie's face and she looked like she was going to puke. I realised she had already started eating a chocolate bar, and Zack was already halfway through a donut. Jack sighed long and hard, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

"Wait here."

He walked through the siding doors, expression irritated. He handed Zack the wallet and, with some firm instructions, came back out, hands once again in their cozy hoodie pockets. We watched as Kenzie, Zack and Nisha all hustled to the front of the line, spilling their food onto the checkout bench. Plastic bags spilling over their arms, they came back out into the light.

"Cheers." Zack said, tossing Jack's wallet to him as he breezed past.

Jack shot daggers his way, before shoving the wallet back into the pocket of his jeans. I shook my head. What in Hades was up with those two?

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	17. 17: Jack

Hey Guys!

Sorry for a bit of a later post, the website wasn't working on my laptop for some reason and I've been really busy with assignments and such. Anyway, here it is! Reviews and feedback greatly appreciated!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-17-

Jack

* * *

Gods, I hated him. Why couldn't he just let me have this? Ever since we were kids, he's never stopped stealing all the attention for himself. I mean, life hasn't ever been hard for him. He was like the sun, always bright and loud and I was like the moon, always dark and constantly in his shadow. It was so stereotypical and cliche, but it was the truth. He was the golden boy. And I would never be as popular or as shiny as him. That's just what happens when you have a descendant of Apollo and one of Hades. I was used to it. But I had hoped this quest would be a way to prove myself, in a way. Step out of his shadow. Zack had snatched that away from me seemingly without a care, and no one had even noticed. Except maybe Celestia. She was strolling next to me, silent now that I had made it clear I wasn't in the mood for talking. That was probably rude of me, but I was pretty ticked off. Kenzie, Nisha and Zack were up ahead, munching happily on their refilled supplies. The supplies that had come out of my pocket. I shook my head. Taking advantage of me. What's new? Gradually, the three of them came to a stop, giving Celestia and I ample time to catch up.

"Come on! It'll be better to go that way!" Zack argued.

"Go what way?" Celestia interjected, and I felt like punching Zack for the dismissive way he looked at her.

"We're just discussing the best way to get to Chicago. I reckon we should go up through New York and then head back down through Michigan."

"Why?"

Zack shook his head at my question.

"Why not?"

"We are on a time limit here."

"It's an extra couple of hours to take a slightly longer route. I mean, seriously? We can spare a couple hours to see some of the sights."

"We really can't."

"Yeah, we really can."

"Zack you are being ridiculous."

"Am I though? It's just a couple extra hours, not days or weeks."

"Those 'couple of hours' could be the difference between winning and losing against Chaos."

"I agree with Zack." Nisha chimed in, giving Celestia and I a pointed look, "What's a few hours? I mean, how many hours are we losing anyway during the night? If we travel a little longer into the night, we can even make up for your precious lost hours."

"But if we never lost them in the first place, then we would be gaining more distance. Your arguments don't make any sense," Celestia rebuked.

Nisha rolled her eyes and turned to Kenzie.

"Kenz. What do you think?"

Kenzie bit her lip, eyes flickering between the two sides. She was clearly torn. Nisha's expression grew impatient.

"Come on, Kenzie, you're the final vote. Zack and I think through New York and Michigan. You agree, right?"

Celestia and Kenzie met eyes, and seemed to have a silent conversation. Kenzie squared her shoulders and turned back to Nisha and Zack.

"Actually, I agree with Jack and Celestia," she blurted out, to my surprise and theirs, "We would be wasting time going that way. We should just head straight for Chicago."

"It's two against three," Celestia pointed out cheerily, mocking Zack's earlier tone, "Straight for Chicago it is!"

I resisted the urge to laugh at Zack and Nisha's expressions as Kenzie turned to Celestia. They both looked like they had been hit in the face with a dead, slimy fish. It was bloody hilarious. Celestia grinned at Kenzie, squeezing her shoulder. Looking shocked at herself, Kenzie gave me a hesitant smile. Yes! Focus the lights on me, fade to black and cue the dramatic orchestral number. Just like that, I had won back my quest.

"Which way's Chicago?" I asked Celestia, who whipped her ornate compass out of her pocket, popping open the lid. She rotated slightly, before pointing more to the northwest of where we were currently heading.

"Well, as the bird flies, Chicago is somewhere that way. But we need an actual route."

She stuck her hand out for the map and Zack begrudgingly handed it over. Celestia passed it over to Kenzie.

"Here. Can you figure out where we need to go, Kenz?"

After a brief moment of surprise, Kenzie took the map. For a couple seconds, she scanned it before shaking her head.

"We would be best to follow the I-90E and I-80E. That will take us there in about...maybe thirteen hours? If we were driving, that is."

"What about a train?" Nisha interjected, "Wouldn't that be a lot easier than finding someone to hitch a ride with?"

"In theory, yeah, we could take the trains. But it was cost us more than we have. I think we should find a car." Celestia contradicted.

"Mm, I agree," I replied, moving back from where I was leaning over Celestia's shoulder, and turning to Zack and Nisha. "Are we agreed?"

"Well, I still think we should be going through New York and Michigan," Zack drawled, indignation emphasised heavily, "but if we are going to go your way, we gotta do it right. How are we even going to get a car?"

Celestia's amused look my way didn't go unnoticed, and Nisha raised her eyebrows.

"What's so funny?"

"Just have a bit of experience," Celestia shrugged, dropping a not at all subtle wink at me.

Everyone glanced between us as I shook my head at Celestia.

"You're despicable."

"Naw, thanks."

Kenzie cleared her throat.

"So, what's the plan?"

"Well," I said loudly, addressing the whole group, "we need to steal another car."

...

"And here's the key, love. Make sure you bring her back."

"Thank you," Kenzie trilled, stepping back to where we were waiting next to a mildly beat up white van. She jingled the keys at us, before throwing them underhand to Celestia, who grumbled something about not knowing how to have fun. We, as in everyone else, had decided that stealing a car could get us into more trouble than it's worth, so we had ended up walking a couple blocks to a car loan place and renting out this beat up dinosaur. Celestia stepped up into the front seat; she was driving first.

"Shotgun!" Nisha called, jumping into the passenger seat. Celestia sent a bewildered look my way, but there wasn't much I could do. She had called it. Slamming the door shut, Nisha turned so she was looking at us through the open back doors.

"Come on. We got a time limit, don't we?"

Well, yeah. But I didn't really want to be shoved in the back of a van with a girl I hardly knew and my brother. It was like Stranger Danger 101, and would probably end in murder. Of who, I couldn't be sure. Peeking in, I realised there wasn't another layer of seats in the back. Instead, wooden out-crofts like benches were positioned around the edges of the space, like this was a refurbished delivery van. I sat on the left-hand side behind Celestia, Zack taking the bench behind Nisha. Kenzie sat in between us, directly behind the front seats, looking immensely uncomfortable. Once we were properly seated and the doors were closed with a squeal, Celestia turned the key. The engine spluttered before dying dramatically with a mechanical cough.

"Come on, you stupid hunk of junk," Celestia muttered, jamming the key in again.

This time the engine caught with a croaking roar like an ill tiger. Being extremely careful not to stall it, Celestia backed the van out of the parking lot with a steady hand. All waving goodbye to the man in the store, we pulled out onto the road. Celestia handed Nisha the map.

"You're the navigator. We're here." She pointed to a small dot. "And we want to get here."

Nisha nodded, eyes scanning the roads.

"Alright. We need to head left onto the Jericho Turnpike up ahead."

This continued for almost an hour. Right onto Old Westbury road. Merge onto the Long Island Expy. Follow that for ages, and then turn onto the Cross Island Parkway. Going over the Throgs Neck Bridge and paying the toll (more money out of my pocket, but whatever). Then onto the Cross Bronx Expy, followed by the NJ Tpke. The entire time we were seated in deathly silence, the only interruptions being Celestia and Nisha discussing the route and Zack and Nisha murmuring things that we couldn't catch to each other…

"Hey. You're running out of gas."

Zack was leaning over the seats, his chin resting on Nisha's shoulder. I moved to the other side of the central console and took a peek. He was right. We were nearly empty.

"Crap," Celestia muttered under her breath, "Nisha, where's the closest gas station?"

"Uh...there's a Shell up ahead soon, on our right. We're looking for a turnoff for...no wait, it's on the wrong side…there's an Exxon, same turnoff. Onto...NJ 4. Everyone keep an eye out for it."

Noses practically pressed to the murky windows, we kept vigilant watch for a passing green sign with 'NJ 4' on it. We were going fairly slow due to the morning traffic, but it was still hard to read the writing before it passed. It kind of all merged into one messy mass of white lettering.

"Up ahead!" Kenzie called, "Two hundred meters."

Celestia switched lanes, giving the finger in the rearview mirror to a driver who nearly dented our back bumper. We came to a halt at the turnoff, waiting for a break in the seemingly continuous flow. Celestia tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, eyes flickering back and forth. She seemed nervous.

"You all good?" I asked, leaning forward and muttering so that it was harder for everyone else to hear, "You kinda look like you're freaking out."

"I said I could drive," she muttered to me through gritted teeth, louder than I think she intended, "I didn't say I could make it through multiple lanes of midday traffic without hitting something."

"What?!"

Zack's eyes were comically wide. Kenzie and Nisha both shot alarmed looks our way. Celestia shrugged, trying to catch herself.

"Well, I can in theory, okay? It's not like I've exactly had practice."

Fair enough, I guess.

"You should be fine," I said assuredly, not only to Celestia, but to everyone else too, "It's just one turn, and then we're cruising."

It didn't seem to help. Tension still layered the air.

"Ok, ok," Nisha remarked, pointing to the road, "There's an opening coming up."

"No way," Zack scoffed, "That's way too small."

Oh, great. Nice one, Zack. I didn't have to look at Celestia to see her accept the challenge. She revved the engine as Zack's face fell.

"No, no, no. I didn't mean-"

Celestia released the brakes and we shot forward, Zack, Kenzie and I flying backwards. I saw Nisha covering her face with her forearms as we went sailing through the traffic. Hitting the back doors with a thud that I swear almost sent me spilling onto the bitumen, I tried to keep my eyes on the windscreen. A bright green car swerved past, followed by a black ute, and then suddenly we slowed down to a constant speed. I detangled myself from Zack and Kenzie, moving back up to the front.

"We through?"

"We're through."

The whole van except for Zack collectively breathed a sigh of relief. He crawled forward with as much dignity as he could muster, resettling himself on his bench with a huff. His eyebrows were drawn together in anger, and maybe be a touch of humiliation at being called out.

"That was the most stupid thing I have ever seen. You could have gotten us killed."

His remark was almost lost in the exclamations of surprise and praise that filled the van. Even Nisha was impressed. That had been a near impossible gap. Celestia shrugged at Zack

"You gotta admit, it was pretty dope though."

"I wouldn't know. I was thrown onto the floor."

Celestia snorted and Zack's expression soured even further. But, I noticed Kenzie suppressing a smile. Maybe she was on our side after all.

...

I released my grip on the gas pump, allowing the flow to stop. Everyone else sat inside, talking or ignoring everyone. Sitting the pump back on its stand, I gestured for Nisha to roll down the window. She complied, having a little trouble with the ancient crank.

"What's up?"

"I don't have enough to pay for this. Does anyone else have any money?"

Muttered no's from everyone. I breathed out through my nose, feeling more than a little frustrated. Was I the only one who had come prepared for this quest?

"Hold up," Nisha told me, raising a finger, "Lemme check my pockets."

She rifled around for a couple seconds, face concentrated, before pulling out a couple twenties.

"This do?"

Yeah. That would work. I took the money, muttering a quick thanks. Zack gave me a funny look.

"Just make it quick alright. We don't have all day."

Alright Mr Serious. I strolled over to the shop, slightly slowing down my pace just to annoy him. Waving an arm to activate the motion-sensor doors, I stepped inside.

"Just the white van, please. Pump five."

"That'll be $45.32," the man behind the counter drawled, giving me a mildly suspicious eye.

I handed across the cash and he counted it carefully once, then twice, before placing it in the till. Pocketing the change and raising a hand in goodbye, I walked back outside to see everyone standing outside the can, staring at a lingering trail of smoke that was coming from under the hood. I jogged over.

"What in Hades happened? I was literally gone for a minute."

"I wanted to try the aircon," Nisha muttered, sounding disappointed, "it was getting damn hot in there. But this happened. I think it might be an issue with the coolant."

Zack sniffed the air.

"Smells like pancakes."

"Definitely the coolant then," Nisha remarked, dropping down to glance under the van, "I think I can fix it. I've worked with coolant problems before. Can anyone see any antifreeze?"

Celestia gave her an appreciative look. "You know your cars?"

"I know enough. I used to help a friend with repairs. What about you?"

"No." Celestia replied, dropping down next to her. "But I'll figure it out."

I, however, knew absolutely nothing about cars. They were speaking a completely different language. At least Kenzie looked as lost as me. Not wanting to stand there and do nothing, I cleared my throat to get their attention.

"Well, what do you need? Kenzie and I can go get any tools or anything…"

"Here, I'll write a quick list."

Nisha leaned through the still open window, snatching a loose piece of paper and a discarded pen. She wrote down a couple dot points before handing it to Kenzie.

"If you ask the man behind the counter, he should be able to help you out."

Celestia turned to Zack.

"We're going to need your help to lift this hunk of junk up off the ground. Can you go grab that jack over there?"

"Me?" I asked, confused.

"No, the car jack."

"What car?"

"Stop the...the tool used to lift up cars that is conicidently called a car jack."

"Oh. Right." I felt stupid. "Well, Kenzie and I will go get this stuff then."

Kenzie shook her head as we walked back to the shop.

"Don't know what half these things are."

With a look, I could tell I didn't either. Hopefully, Celestia and Nisha knew what they were doing. The man regarded us as we walked in, openly mistrustful.

"What do you hooligans want now?"

We were both taken aback.

"Sir, we have a coolant issue, and we were just wondering if you could help?" Kenzie ventured politely, "We just need a couple things to fix it up."

She passed over the list and as he read it over I could see his disbelief of our story start to waver.

"That's what you need all right. But who's gonna fix it for you?"

"Our friends know their way around cars."

"They better. Coolants can be fickle buggers."

"What do you mean?"

The man mimicked an explosion and I suddenly felt worried leaving Zack near the van. Kenzie nodded.

"But can you give us the equipment that we need?"

He shrugged.

"Well, I don't know if-"

"Please."

Something in Kenzie's voice had changed, and I felt the weirdest urge to help her, even though we both wanted the same thing. The man seemed to have felt it too because he blinked a couple times, before moving into the back room, coming out with a box filled with tools.

"Here." he said, voice vague and dreamy.

Kenzie took the tools and walked out, leaving me stumbling after her. The pieces fell together in my mind as we exited the shop.

"Did you just use charmspeak on me?"

"Not on you intentionally. I was focussing it on the man, and you kinda got some of the leaked energy. Sorry about that."

"No...no it's fine. I just didn't realise you could do that."

"Most children of Aphrodite can, to an extent. I just prefer not to. But the faster we get back on the road, the better, so it seemed necessary." Kenzie replied with a shrug.

Remind me not to get on her bad side. We placed the box next to Zack, who was crouching next to Celestia and Nisha. They were lying underneath the propped up car, fiddling with a couple components I didn't know the name of. Celestia pulled out a tool without looking, fitting it neatly over a bolt and undoing it. Nisha reached for some electrical tape and together they wrapped it around a pipe hanging down above their heads. With a couple more little adjustments, they both slid out, satisfied looks on their faces.

"All fixed," Nisha told us, "We just need to wash our hands, and then we're good to go."

Celestia wiggled her blackened fingers at me and I pantomimed fear, making her smile. Zack, Kenzie and I all piled back into the rear of the van, Kenzie seeming a little more at ease now. Soon, Nisha and Celestia had returned and we were on the road again.

...

"It's getting dark. How you going, Celestia?"

"Fine."

She didn't look fine. Her grip was rigid on the wheel and her eyes stared fixedly at the road. She had been driving for hours. Nisha was asleep, looking like the end of the world couldn't wake her, face pressed up against the passenger door. Zack was curled up in the corner, his fingers intertwined around Nisha's. It looked extremely uncomfortable; Zack's arm was squeezed between the seat and the door and Nisha's was wrapped around behind her to meet his, but who was I to judge. Kenzie had found a divet in the floor to sleep in, pulling her jacket around her for some warmth. I checked the time on the dash. Nearly eleven.

"You want to switch?"

"Nope."

"Do you at least want to take a break?"

"I'm fine, Jack."

Her voice was exasperated. I almost left it, but her tense posture stopped me. She looked like she was running on nothing. But she was so bloody stubborn.

"How about you get some caffeine then, if you're going to keep driving?"

"Yeah, ok," Celestia replied after a slight hesitation.

We pulled into a little coffee shop that still had its lights on, Celestia shutting off the ignition.

"What do you want? I'll go in and get it."

"Hazelnut, please."

Alright. I grabbed my wallet out of the open center console, shoving it into my back jean pocket.

"'Kay. You stay here."

"Can't exactly leave without you, can I?"

I opened the back door as softly as I could, not wanting to evoke the sleeping demigods' wrath. Trust me, you only do it once. I stepped into the store, the harsh light hurting my eyes a little. The lady behind the counter gave me a tired smile.

"Hey darl, what can I getcha?"

"Uh, just two hazelnuts please."

"It'll just be a couple minutes."

"Alright, thank you."

I took a seat in one of the vibrant orange waiting chairs while I waited for the lady to make our coffees. Celestia gave me a sluggish thumbs up from the front seat when I turned to check on her. After a minute or so, the lady called me back over.

"Two hazelnuts? That's $6.20 all up, with tip."

I handed across a tenner, slightly concerned with how my supplies were dwindling, even with Nisha's added cash. Collecting my change, I thanked the lady and grabbed the tray holding our drinks. The bell tingled again as I left the small coffee shop, pushing the door opening with my foot. Nearly tripping on the curb, I made my way back to our beat up van, eyes still adjusting to the gloom.

"Hey, Celestia, here's your…"

My words faltered. She was sleeping peacefully, legs curled up on the seat, eyelashes fluttering as she dreamt. I watched her for a second, eyes skimming over her features. What now? We should really keep going; the faster we translated this prophecy, the faster we got about to defeating Chaos. But I didn't want to wake her. She had been driving all night and plus, she wasn't as scary now as when she was awake. I had never noticed the light smattering of freckles that spread across her nose. I cleared my throat at myself, looking away. I could keep driving. I had the caffeine. But Celestia was in the driver's seat. Leaning over her, I balanced the coffees on the center console. Then, I slipped my arms under her knees and around her back, lifting her out of the chair. She mumbled something I didn't catch, before snuggling herself in closer to my chest. Her eyelids fluttered for a second as I held my breath. She'd most likely kill me if she woke up now. She moved her head further into the crook of my arm and I had to suppress a smile. It was all that I could take to not push the lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes. I moved her a little to the left to fit around the door, walking to the back of the van. I mentally cursed myself. How was I supposed to open the door now? Holding her up momentarily with my knee, I reached blindly for the handle, but I had to quickly pull it back before I fell. I hefted her up higher, extending a foot. I hooked it under the handle and opened the door, bouncing precariously on one leg for a couple seconds. She shifted as I set her down gently on the other side of the van to Kenzie. A hand flung over her face, she turned so that she was facing the wall. She looked ridiculous.

"Night, Celestia."

No reply, just the soft rising and falling of her chest. I stepped back out into the parking lot, closing the doors with a near-silent click. Taking a sip from one of the coffees, I pulled my seatbelt into place. Luckily, no one woke up as I reignited the ignition. It wouldn't be too hard, right? I mean, I could drive, and we were off the highway now. I'd be fine. Pushing the gear stick into reverse, I slowly edged the van out of the car park. A turn to the right and a sip of coffee later, and I was back on the road, heading to Chicago.

...

"What am I doing back here?"

Trying to keep an eye on the road, I glanced back in the rearview mirror to meet Celestia's drowsy gaze.

"You fell asleep. I took over."

She looked as if I had done something unspeakable.

"Why? You should have just woken me up. I was fine."

"You hadn't slept for about seventeen hours, Celestia. We don't want you to be a zombie."

"I would have been fine! I would've just had some coffee."

"Do you realise how unhealthy that is?"

"Are you two having a domestic?" Zack groaned from his seat, "If so, please shut up."

We stilled our argument as everyone else groggily sat up. Nisha took a little longer, palms pressed to her eyes. She blinked at me.

"You're not...Celestia...wait...you two switched seats?"

She yawned, setting off everyone else. Once we had all finished, I cleared my throat.

"So we're about three hours away from Chicago. Does someone else want to drive for a bit?"

Celestia grunted, redoing her messy hair in a loose bun. We pulled over and quickly changed seats; Celestia driving again and this time Zack snatching shotgun much to Nisha's horror. I shuffled to the back, finding myself the least uncomfortable corner. Nisha and Kenzie piled in after me, already talking about something that I didn't quite catch. I pulled my hoodie in closer around me, yanking the drawstrings to close the hood, and tried to settle into the ground as much as possible. Maybe I could catch a quick shut-eye before we made it to Chicago. Slowly, the rocking motion of the shaky van and the constant creaking of the bolts must have lulled me to sleep, because before I knew it, I woke up to the bright lights of Chicago.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	18. 18: Ash

Hey Guys!

Classic me, get a comment praising my consistent posting, and then go AWOL. Exams got the better of me, but I'm back now! Here's the chapter I should have posted on Wednesday. I'll be posting the next one on the 29th, putting me back on schedule. I'm on Christmas holidays now, so who know? Might even up the posting rate.

We're back to Ash, who's facing her initiation. Enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-18-

Ash

* * *

Sweat dribbled lazily down my arm. But this wasn't 'training hard for a couple hours' sweat. This was 'fearing for my life' sweat. For most people, today probably would be an exciting occasion, filled with presents and congratulations. Not for me. Instead, here I was, standing outside the main hall's doors, waiting to be called inside to fight for my life. Because today, I was twelve. Damien's hand was firm on my shoulder and he gave me a reassuring squeeze as I shivered in worried anticipation.

"You'll do great, Ash. You're a better fighter than me, and I passed."

Barely. But I appreciated his efforts to lighten my mood. His hand slipped off my arm, dropping to his side as his father strode through the doors. After a slight pause where he regarded us, the headmaster turned his gaze to me.

"Ash. Are you ready to fight?"

"Does it matter if I say no?"

"Well, we can always just have you killed here."

My jaw tightened, but I nodded. He gestured for me to follow him, passing back through the doors to where the crowds were waiting. I quickly snatched up Damien's hand, giving it a squeeze, before dropping it and following his father. The first thing that hit me when I stepped into the room was the smell. It wasn't the stench of blood; no self respecting orphanage would have a room that reeked of blood. No, it was the overpowering stink of bleach and other cleaning products that were used to clean up the blood that assaulted my nose, making me want to gag. Then was the noise. The crowds roared with bloodthirsty cries and there were shouts as people shoved their way to the front, right next to the crudely outline arena. The prime spot to watch the fight.

Is this what it had been like for Damien to stand here? It hadn't seemed near as bad from where I had been watching. I took my place at the side of the stage, where I would wait for the headmaster to call me. I slid my gaze over the front row of students. The students who would be trying to kill me. They all turned their hardened gazes to me. I found it hard to swallow as I searched the sea of faces for Damien. I couldn't find him anywhere, and my stomach tightened. The headmaster tapped the microphone for silence, and the audience quickly complied.

"Students. Teachers. Today, as I'm sure you are aware, is the twelfth birthday of one of our students here."

The cheers were deafening from where I was standing. I tried not to cringe, feeling a headache coming on.

"Ash. Would you kindly step forward?"

I moved forward on shaky legs, chin held high. I would not show weakness in front of this crowd. In front of the headmaster. He met my eyes for a couple of seconds, before giving me a wide smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Now, not many of you might be aware, but Ash here is quite a talented fighter, aren't you darling?"

Oh Gods how I wished I could spit on his face right now. But instead, I chucked on a confident smirk that was only skin-deep and raised a fist to the crowd, who responded by stamping their feet and hollering like mental patients. The headmaster didn't even seemed fazed by my response, instead nodding like he approved.

"Well, in light of this stunning performance, there have been some slight moderations made to Ash's initiation…"

Fear ran in spikes down my body. Damien and I had thought that might happen, that he might up the odds for me. But I had hoped he wouldn't. Gods had I hoped. I kept a straight, bored face as the headmaster appealed to the crowd, raising his arms for more cheering, before lowering them quickly for silence.

"There will be three modifications for young Ash here."

Three? My heart was pumping louder than usual, banging up against my ribcage. What did he mean, three?

"First, there will be more fighters. Twenty of our best students will be fighting today against our young prodigy here."

My breathing quickened as the entire front row stood, flexing and drawing weapons. That was double what everyone else had to fight. Even Damien only fought fifteen. They moved down the other end of the cleared area, the crowd feverish and ecstatic. Twenty? Twenty! Crap. Oh Gods, I had never fought twenty before. Oh Gods, oh Gods.

"Second."

I forced my breathing under control, counting in my head. In. Out. It was just twenty.

"Let's move this crowd in a bit closer, hey? Wouldn't want you to have a lot maneuvering room, would we?"

Hands shoved my back as the crowd closed in on us. My chest tightened as I was forced closer and closer to my targets. I could feel myself starting to panic. I silently willed the headmaster to hurry up and give me the third change. The faster I started, the faster it would be over, one way or another.

"And finally…"

Tight grips on my forearms as students in the crowd drew me back. Amid the struggle, my sword was stripped from my side and I was then flung forward, landing on my hands and knees on the ground. I raised my head as the crowds went wild, my sword being passed above heads to the headmaster. He held it aloft, giving me a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Can you do it without your weapon?"

A challenge. One that meant I would die if I backed down. And would probably die if I accepted it. But what choice did I have?

"I accept," I yelled over the noise, which increased tenfold as I climbed to my feet, "Let's get this over with, shall we!"

I took a fighting stance, fists lightly curled in front of my face. The other students all looked to the headmaster, who nodded.

"Begin."

...

These students must have learnt from Damien's initiation, because they didn't attack one by one, or try to rush me all at once. They instead moved into four rows of five, slinking forward step by step, waiting for me to attack while they gained ground. It was a smart tactic. But not smart enough. I darted toward the student on the far right of the first row, sliding across the cobbled ground to dodge their strike and embedding my heel in their kneecap, feeling satisfied with the sharp crack that followed. I rolled to the right, kicking their injured leg out from under them, and spinning onto my feet as the student next to them tried to slice me with their sword. In a crouch, I watched as the lines reformed, the injured student clutching his useless leg now at the back, and a fresh new student taking his place at the front.

Great. I was counting that as one down.

The two students on either side of the front row shuffled forward, forming a semicircle around me, of sorts. They spun their swords in sync, clearly accustomed to fighting together. The student on the left struck and I dodged. But the one on his left was already striking, and so was the one to the left of him. They were doing a wave of blades, a common tactic. One assaultant would strike, then followed by everyone else once the person before them had attacked. This was to try to catch the opponent by surprise. Luckily, I recognised this and instead of dodging to the right like they expected, I darted back to the left, punching the second student in the stomach, before driving a knee into their face, feeling their nose break, possibly accompanied by a couple teeth. I jumped back as the other students tried to catch me off guard. Nice try. But I needed a weapon. Technically, the headmaster had said without my weapon, not without any weapon. So, in theory, I could legally use on of the student's weapons. In theory. In practice was a whole other feat.

Eighteen to go.

The semicircle moved back now that they were missing one of their fighters, a student from the back moving to fill the gap. It was frustrating; every time I took one down, another seemed to take their place. But eventually, they would run out of spare rows. And then, I would best them. Two students in the center darted forward, before drawing back. They all seemed to be attacking in formations, like they had trained for this. Knowing the headmaster, they probably had. Maybe if I figured out their strategies, I could anticipate their attacks. But what were their strategies? Okay, so when I took out someone in the front row, a student from the back moved up and took their place. This was a well-oiled motion; it only took two, three seconds before the lapse in swords was filled. That could work to my advantage, although probably only once. I skipped back, avoiding a blade.

Idea.

When the next attack from the group of two came, I moved forward to meet it. Here's where things got tricky. I figured I could use my combat gear to block the attack; it was thick enough that the blade wouldn't penetrate, but I would need to position myself perfectly so that the blade didn't slice my flesh. The arc of the swing came towards me, and I raised my left arm, stepping inside of the attack. Angling my arm so the blade would glance off it, I sent my right elbow into a quick jab in the student's stomach, followed by an uppercut to the chin. Snatching the blade out of the student's weakened grip and driving the hilt firmly into the ribcage of the second student, I had myself a weapon. I then darted forward into the gap I had created before it could be filled. Dropping low to avoid strikes, I sliced the calf of one student, and drove an elbow into the groin of another. I was in the thick of it now, blows coming from all around me.

But they couldn't use their swords as easily; it was too close quarters and they weren't going to risk injuring one of their own. I leaped up, thrusting the top of my head into the bottom of someone's chins, snapping their head back. I dove forward into a space, kicking out a pair of legs as I rolled. A shove from one side as I rose knocked me slightly off-balance, but I swung as I stumbled, landing a glancing blow on a student's arm that had them staggering back. I quickly kicked the head of the student I had kicked the legs out from under, knocking her out cold. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone coming towards me. But, before I could turn, a red-hot line ran along the back of my hand, loosening its grip, and the sword fell to the ground with an echoing clang. I moved back, trying to ease the blood. One of the students had sliced me along the back of my hand, opening at least one vein I was aware of. It now hurt to move, my motions laced with white-hot agony and blood splashed on the cobbles. The crowd screamed at the sight of my blood, baying like hounds with a scent.

The students kept advancing, but I stopped retreating, taking a quick second to look at how much damage I had caused. Enough. Their system was in array, with no more ordered lines and quick rotations. A couple students laid sprawled on the ground, those that were conscious nursing wounds. I had downed five, by the looks of it. I had been hoping for more. The student who was steadily coming closer suddenly drove forward, sword extended in a lunge. I batted it away with my bare hand, leaving a slight stinging sensation but successfully deflecting the strike. I then swiftly punched the student in the face, knocking them out almost instantly. While I was busy doing that, my other opponents had been busy putting themselves back together, now standing in a loose, two row formations; six in the front, seven in the back. In defensive positions, they waited for me to make my move. Instead of attacking, I reached sideways into the crowd, pulling forward a girl in a purple top. She exclaimed in surprise as I ripped the hemming out, before pushing her back. Locking eyes with as many students as I could, I wrapped the cloth around my injured hand, pulling it tight and securing it. Then I raised my hands, flinging up my middle fingers.

"Let's go! I thought we were fighting?"

With a cry, the front row charged forward.

...

I met the first with a speedy roundhouse quick to the head that sent them staggering away, before driving an elbow into the temple of the next. I had to hop back as a strike nearly gutted me, before darting forward and slamming the palm of my hand into the girl's nose, blood spurting instantly. The other three in the front row closed in, glancing at each other in silent conversation. I waited, bobbing on my feet. Clearly, they had something planned. Well bring it. I didn't have all day. Finally, they came to a stop in front of me.

"Truce?" I asked, "We could go get some ice-cream?"

The one in the middle dove forward, aiming for my legs, as the other two moved to either side of me. Guess that was a no to the ice-cream then. I sprung over the low sweep, landing on the flat of the student's blade, pressing it to the ground. With a speedy kick to the face, he was out. That left the ones who had crept around to either side of me. They both swung at the same time; two different directions, two different heights. I could only dodge one. I chose the one on my right, my dominant side, dispatching them with three fast punches to the face and throat. But it had come at a cost. Agony wracked through my shoulder as the other student drove their sword through my body. They ripped it out and I stumbled back, turning to them. Three other students from the final row rushed forward to help as I pressed a hand to my steadily bleeding shoulder. I gritted my teeth, staggering away from the advance. Clamour and shrieks echoed from the crowds as the four students closed in. Spots twinkled in front of my eyes as my fingers made sickening squelch noises in my wound.

I was finding it hard to see straight. My hands were multiplying into four, eight, in front of my eyes. A firm kick to my knee, and I was kneeling, floor widening and expanding, like I was viewing it through a thin film of water. Scraped palms hit the ground as someone shoved me from behind. What was happening? I couldn't see, or think, properly. My shoulder was throbbing, and I lifted a hand to press it. Almost without pause, my other arm was kicked out from under me, and I fell forward, hitting the ground facefirst. The metallic taste of my blood filled my mouth as my lip split. I had to stop a groan from tumbling out as I was kicked in the ribs, rolling me onto my back. How had things deteriorated that fast? One second I'd had victory almost in sight, and now I was lying on my back, four sword-tips pointed at various vulnerable positions across my body. The crowd's silence was more worrying than their cheers as the students all turned to the headmaster. I rotated my head to look at him too, pain like a vice, squeezing and squeezing. He regarded me with a look that could almost be taken for disappointment. Then, he pursed his lips in distaste.

"Ash. You have lost."

No. Oh Gods please no. I could still fight. Moving my arm sent daggers to my brain that left my vision fragmented with patchy white. Oh Gods. I couldn't lose. I would die. Even if not by the headmaster's hands today, then later. I knew too much; I wouldn't be allowed to live out exile in peace.

"Do you accept defeat?"

No. But I couldn't move. Even where I wasn't injured I ached with a passion. I could hardly move my head, let alone fight. Plus, even if I tried to stand, the students standing over me would simply dispatch me before I could so much as breathe. What was I fighting for? Out of the corner of my vision, I saw something that caught my eye. A face, so familiar to me, and yet so fuzzy. His eyes were petrified, so fearful I would die. My mind cast back on all my happy memories, and every single one of them held his face. Damien. It was Damien I was fighting for.

"Ash? Do you accept defeat?"

I raised my head off the ground, trail of blood connecting it still.

"Never," I spat, globdule of red mass flying out of my mouth.

The headmaster raised a hand, looking to the students. He twirled it.

"Well get on with it then."

With a hurried glance between them, the students raised their weapons to deliver the final blow.

...

It never landed. I thrusted off my back, driving my foot into the hilt of one student's sword, sending it barrelling into their face. Idiot. Shouldn't have had a hilt that wide. As he lurched back I rolled, head feeling like it was in a steadily tightening vice. Stolen sword now in hand and free from the circle, I shakily pointed it at the shocked students.

"Never."

Aside from the groans of the students I had downed, the room was silent. No one had ever done what I had just done, at least, not that I could remember. Resisting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut, I raised my free hand, motioning to the remaining students.

"Come one then," I coughed, "I don't have all day."

They seemed hesitant to move forward.

"Fine."

I walked a few steps forward, not bouncing or bobbing like I usually would. I was sure that if I did I would pass out, which would definitely not be good. I came to a stop in front of the four other students on the other side of the room. They all just looked at me.

"Fight!"

The headmaster's shout pierced my brain, making the pain levels spike. But it had the desired effect on the students, and they all took offensive positions, weapons held firm. Instead of focussing on what was happening, my head was spinning. Drops of my blood splashed on the ground, and I found myself watching them as the students drove forward.

Focus.

I snapped myself out of it, raising my sword just in time to block an overhead strike that surely would have killed me. Forcing myself to move as they darted back, I raised my arm, preparing to strike an opponent to my right. Even though it was the wrong side, sharp pain laced my body, making it hard to see straight. I gave a feeble attempt at an attack, but it was easily deflected. I needed to take down these students before the wound got even worse. If I was this uncoordinated now, in a couple minutes I could basically kiss my life goodbye. But I was overthinking it, pain making me blunder. I just needed to let my instincts take over. Consciously drawing myself back, I let my body go on autopilot as I fought off the four students in front of me. One went down with a long slice down the length of his arm. A firm stab in the side downed another. Severing the Achilles tendon of the third student, leaving him screaming on the floor, I turned to the last of the four.

Block.

Block.

Counter.

Hit.

They tumbled backwards, knocked unconscious. Feeling slightly more adept I went to turn to the remaining four students. Shooting pain fragmented across my face as my rotating head was met with a fist. Head throbbing hideously, I stumbled back, narrowly avoiding a swipe at my knees. Deflecting a blow from a mace, I utilised my pain, using it to power a harsh elbow to someone's rib-cage. They went down, and I had to practically fall to the ground to avoid another.

Three left. Come on, nearly there.

Snatching up the fallen mace as I dropped, I drove it with force into the side of a student's head, my stomach turning slightly at the wet crack that ensued.

Two.

The boy on the right attacked forward, and I rose my stolen mace to block it. But that's what they wanted. The other student kicked my wrist, hard, and instantly it was agonising to hold onto my weapon. Dropping it left me defenseless, but I couldn't fight the pain. With a resounding clang, my weapon hit the cobbles, but before they could react I had slipped past the attacking student's defenses, and with a efficient punch to the jaw, they were out.

That left one.

...

He didn't even let me turn, swiftly attacking from the side and forcing me to skip back. He was fast, clearly much happier in a fight where he could swing his weapon. Of which, he had. Mine was still on the ground. We began circling each other, the braying of the crowds behind us. The student was basking in it, confident smirk on his face. Let's wipe that look off. Clearing the distance between us in a few bounding steps, I came in close, cramping them up so he couldn't swing. In retaliation, he dropped his sword, blocking each of my punches and kicks before returning ones of his own. We were locked in close quarters hand-to-hand combat. One slip up, and things would get ugly real fast. But it wasn't a slip up that got him through my guard. They just did something unexpected; they tackled me. They were on top of me as we hit the ground, air driven from my lungs courtesy of the impact. Still throwing punches, he tried to get me in a lock, trying to get the upper hand. I wouldn't let him, slipping out of his locks as soon as they formed. He grunted as I drove a hard knee into his stomach, forcing him off me. He rolled to my left as I moved into a crouch, waiting for him to make his move. He laid on the ground for a second, struggling to get up. Was he hurt? Had I won?

Gods I wished.

He was faking, buying himself enough time to grab one of the fallen student's swords. I had to throw myself backwards as his first swing nearly took off my head. But he just kept coming. Rolling out of the way of a stab, I tried to search for a weapon. There! The mace. My fingers stretched for it, reaching. I started moving backwards, sliding across the floor on my stomach. I glanced up. He had my foot. I kicked out, hard, but he dodged and then came in close, landing on top of me again. I tried to keep him distracted with my hands, throwing punches left and right, but he stopped me with a piston-like punch to the face that had me seeing black. He was raising the sword up high, trying to maneuver it in a position where he could drive it through my chest. I needed to stop him. He had me pinned, a lamb for the slaughter. Finally, his sword broke free of my constraint, and he raised it high above his head, preparing to strike.

So, I did the only thing I could.

Not breaking eye contact with the student I inched my hand closer and closer to my goal, hoping he wouldn't notice me snail-like movements. The crowds screamed as the student held my life at a balance.

"Hurry up and finish the job!" the headmaster called, sounding impatient.

The student took a large breath, readying himself. That's when I moved. Quick as a snake, I snatched one of the throwing knifes lined up in the sheath along his leg. The sword was lowering, point beginning its descent. I tucked in close to the students body, flipping the knife to my right hand, my dominant hand.

And without hesitation, I drove it into his heart.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	19. 19: Celestia

Hey Guys!

Back to Celestia, and the reappearance of the mysterious POV. Whoop whoop! Regarding what I said on the last chapter, I was really just laughing at myself, not taking the feedback negatively, although I really appreciate all of you who reassured me that my posting schedule wasn't an issue.

Mysterious POV Hint: As you may have guessed, this person has a past with Celestia, and they do know each other. They're seeking revenge for something that she did. It will make sense eventually, I promise. But...that's all I can tell you for now! Enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-19-

Celestia

* * *

It didn't exactly look how I expected it to. You'd think that a Greek related church would be more...Greek, I guess? But to me, it seemed like every other church. Not that I had been to that many, being a Hellenic demigod and all. I mean, I could see some Greek styling in the layout and structure, but I was expecting more of an 'ancient greek marble' look. I think everyone else was too, because they seemed mildly underwhelmed. Shuffling forward through the aisles, we took in the huge oil paintings that covered the domed roof, and some of the walls. They depicted the classic Greek stories; the defeat of Kronos, the splitting of the land between Zeus, Poseidon and Hades, the birth of the minor gods. There were some factual inaccuracies that jumped out at me straight away, but they were mortals, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Eventually, we made it to the front of the church, up near the altar. Nisha pointed out an old man kneeling in front of it, hands clasped together in prayer. We edged forward.

"Excuse me," I asked softly, not wanted to scare the man, "We're looking for Father Papar?"

"That's me."

The man got to his feet with less of a struggle then I was expecting. When he turned I realised he was only in his thirties or forties; much younger than I had initially thought. He gave us a warm smile, spreading his arms.

"Welcome to the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral of Chicago. I am Father Papar. How may I assist you today?"

"We're looking for a girl called Cassandra," Zack told him, "We need her help."

If I hadn't been looking for it, I wouldn't have seen it. But at the mention of Cassandra, Father Papar's eyes became guarded.

"I'm sorry, Cassandra? I can't think of any Cassandra's who attend our ceremonies."

He was lying. Unconscious nervous movements of the hands. Eyes flicking up and to the left, a sign of Father Papar constructing a story in his head.

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, not suspicious yet, "She has dark, curly brown hair, dark brown eyes…"

Father Papar shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I do not know a Cassandra. I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful."

He moved to leave the room. Everyone looked disappointed, starting to leave. Not on my watch. I grab the priest's sleeve. Surprised, he turned.

"Yes?"

"Father Papar, when did your daughter die? Before or after Cassandra showed up at your doorstep?"

Silence greeted my question as Father Papar stared at me in shock.

"What?" he spluttered.

"Your daughter. Cassandra told you she was going to die, didn't she? But, you didn't believe her."

Now he was angry. He looked first at me, and then at the rest of our group, unmasked fury in his eyes.

"Get out." He hissed. "All of you get out, and never come back."

Ha! So I was right. I gave Jack a triumphant glance, and he raised an eyebrow in approval. I'd tell him later how I did it. The guarded look, the childish bracelet, the aged face. Only a death, a recent one, left that kind of effect on a face. The rest kind of figured itself out.

"So, I'm right. You do know Cassandra. Where is she now?"

"I don't know who you're-."

"Cut the bullcrap," Kenzie cut in, "My friend here read you like an open book...somehow. Where is Cassandra?"

After a few seconds of internal conflict, Father Papar relented, shoulders slumping as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"She's not here. You think I wanted to keep her around after that? I had half the mind to call the police. She killed my Lara. No, no, no. I kicked her out."

That was not the answer we were looking for.

"Where is she now?" Nisha asked, stepping forward a little.

"How would I know?" Father Papar scoffed, a cruel look alighting on his face. "And why do you all care so much?"

"Let's just say we have some...questions...for her," Jack said, vaguely waving his hand.

Father Papar seemed to get the underlying message Jack had made up; we had some beef with Cassandra that we needed to sort out. After a moment, he nodded.

"Her old room's in the back, if you want to go through it, but I don't think you'll find much."

He led us to a naturally lit room out behind the altar. It was plainly decorated, and had scarcely any belongings. He was right; there wasn't much to look through. But we thanked him anyway, stepping inside, and he left us to go complete his prayer. For his Lara, he said. We spread out around the room, looking for any hint of where Cassandra might have gone.

"What are we doing?" Zack asked, sounding pissed, "She's not here. We need call Chiron and tell him his informant was wrong."

"They weren't though," I argued, "They said 'last seen', and she was last seen here."

"Well that's very helpful."

I was about to retaliate, when Nisha interrupted.

"Guys, shut up. Task at hand. We need to figure out where she's gone."

She was right, of course. I moved over to Cassandra's desk, rifling through her papers. Maybe I would find some kind of hint as to where she went. She was our only lead at the moment. Without her, we only had our vague interpretations of the prophecy. We needed her help.

"Wardrobe's empty," Kenzie commented, "So she took all her clothes and stuff. But she's still got everything on the desk?"

"Probably a small bag," I replied, "Not much room for vanity, just the essentials. She didn't know how long she would be travelling before she found somewhere to stay."

"Well, when did the priest kick her out?"

Jack went to go ask Father Papar as we continued searching Cassandra's room. I methodically moved through the loose papers on her desk; picking one up, checking it for information, moving it to the other side of the desk. Finally, under one sheet, a plain book stood out. It looked like the kind you got from Target. It was aqua, but the cardboard edging was fraying and the pages were squashed along the side. Was this Cassandra's journal?

"Hey guys, is it crossing the line to read Cassandra's journal?"

"Yes." Nisha replied, at the same time Kenzie said no. Nisha gave her a bewildered look as I shrugged.

"Journal it is."

I flipped open the first page and realised instantly that this was going to be a chore. Her handwriting was appalling, like she was writing in a fever. The pen colour kept changing too; black, red, blue, even the occasional pink and green. It hurt my eyes to look at, and that was before the dyslexia started to kick in. Nowhere near as bad as my parents, I remember, but still bad enough that the words seemed to ebb and flow on the page. Kenzie noticed my expression of distaste, leaning over to take a peek. She whistled under her breath.

"Have fun with that."

I gave her a dirty look and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly at me. Deciding to start deciphering this mess, I turned back to the book.

I wouldn't call it gibberish, but it sure didn't make much sense to me. Not only was the layout sprawling, with some writing vertical, horizontal or diagonal, but most of it didn't make sense, or didn't link to the next sentence. It was like she was writing poetry, but kept coming up with one or two lines, and then forgetting about it. It was mostly nonsense. A couple words stood out, words like destroy, prosper and destiny, but all together the texts didn't have any clear, or unclear, meaning. I kept flicking through the pages, not bothering to read each word. Occasionally, I came across words that were highlighted, or underlined several times. It was either something cryptic like dangerous or hidden blade, or it was something mundane like corn or Monday. I was only about a quarter into the journal when Jack popped back into the room.

"Yesterday. He kicked her out yesterday."

Hope sparked back to life in the room. She might still be around. If we could just find some kind of hint, maybe we could still find her. Jack moved over with Nisha to rummage through Cassandra's drawers as I reopened the journal. Maybe I should check the latest entry. I flicked forward from where I was, pages blurring together. I quickly stopped as a word underlined several times caught my eye.

Holy crap.

"Guys."

Everyone hustled over and looked to where my finger was pointing. We shared expressions of disbelief. Because written in a heavy black pen and underlined several times, was the name Lara. And the date was from three days ago.

...

"What does this mean?"

"Don't you guys see? Its her prophecy. Father Papar said she predicted Lara's death, right? Well it's right here."

"So this is her, what, prophecy journal?" Zack sounded skeptical.

"Something like it. She probably had prophecies come to her all the time. She would need some way to keep track of them."

It made sense. If the prophecies came randomly, Cassandra would need somewhere to write them down so that she didn't forget.

"Well is there anything about our prophecy in there?"

"I don't know," I replied in answer to Kenzie's question, "I haven't got that far yet."

I flicked forward a couple pages, looking for key words like Chaos or demigods. Nothing. Until I reached the last page Cassandra had used, right near the back. It was a mess of drawn through lines and was hardly coherent. But the word Chaos stood out firmly. I tried to dissect some kind of meaning, but it was near impossible. Letting out a frustrated noise, I brushed through the rest of the pages, plain white flashing in front of my eyes. Glancing up, I realised that the rest of the group had nearly finished going through Cassandra's room. I needed to find something, and quick. Between a few pages, I noticed a torn piece of paper, hurriedly shoved between. I moved back, page by page, until I found it. It was from a newspaper, by the looks of it, but it had been scrawled over in large, black, bolded letters.

'Extinguish the fire, for it will burn all.'

Over and over again. Dread began to make a home in my stomach. It couldn't mean...

"Find anything, Celestia?"

Quickly scrunching the paper into a ball in my hand, I looked up to meet Nisha's question. She had her eyebrows raised, like maybe she had asked the question a couple times before I had noticed.

"Yeah, kinda."

Everyone crowded over as I opened back up to the page I had found our prophecy, dismissing my feeling of foreboding at Cassandra's note. Their faces all fell as they saw what I meant.

"That's impossible to read. We have no idea what it says."

Jack was right. I had hoped maybe someone else could see it a bit better than I could, but apparently not.

"So, what now?"

Silence. We had no clue.

"Should we try and find Cassandra?" I asked hesitantly, "I mean, she could know what this meant."

"This is ridiculous," Zack muttered and we all turned to him, "We're not going to find her. Chicago's huge, she could be practically anywhere by now. It would be a waste of time."

Instantly, Jack took up the other side of the argument.

"But what if we do find her? Then we would know what we're actually supposed to be doing on this quest."

"We won't find her."

"Well, what would you suggest as an alternative, Zack? 'Cause I'm really not hearing any suggestions."

"Shut it. Both of you." I cut in. "We need to figure this out. Do we find Cassandra, or do we head back to camp?"

"I agree with Zack," Nisha commented, "We'll be wasting time here, more than it would take to travel back to camp and start again. We just need a new lead, some kind of new direction. So what, this one struck out, we'll find another."

"And if we don't?" I asked, "What if this is the only shot we got at finding Chaos' heart?"

"I don't think we should be looking for her either," Kenzie added, looking apologetic, "Chicago's huge, and this was a day ago. Depending on how much money she had, she might not even be in the state anymore."

Kenzie bought up a fair point. But I could see Jack wasn't letting go of this argument.

"But what if she's not? She could literally be just around the corner. We don't know."

"Exactly, we don't know. We could be wasting our time."

It always seemed to come back to that point of time. Whether we could afford to search for Cassandra, or whether it would be more wise to cut our losses and head back to camp. It was two against three.

"Fine."

Jack's eyes grew stormy and his hands balled up in protest. We looked at him, waiting for more.

"What do you mean 'fine'?"

"I mean don't search for her then. I don't care. I'm going to, whether you stay or not."

Zack and Nisha seemed unfazed.

"Okay. Kenzie, you're coming with us?"

She nodded, looking downcast. Jack glanced at me, the question of who I was siding with conveyed in this eyes. I sighed.

"I'm with Jack. We'll see if we can find Cassandra."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Jack and I moved to the door.

"We'll Iris Message you if we find anything." Jack told them. They didn't reply.

With a list from Father Papar of where Cassandra liked to go, we started our search through Chicago.

...

Jack was getting restless. Three hours. Three hours of continuous searching and question asking. Nothing. Not a damn thing. I could see it was getting to him. He had staked his pride on this.

"Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes," came the tight answer.

Alright. Guess we kept searching then. We hadn't found even the slightest hint of Cassandra so far. We were steadily moving north, checking in on coffee shops and Cassandra's favourite places to eat, we were met only by frowns and shakes of heads.

"Haven't seen her recently," they all replied.

It was starting to feel hopeless. But I could tell that Jack wasn't going to give up. Maybe not necessarily just because we needed her for our quest. Zack seemed to have an eerie way of getting under Jack's skin.

After three more fruitless attempts at Father Papar's listed spots, we stopped for a break in the neighbouring park, buying a couple hotdogs for lunch.

"I jus don geh it," Jack told me through a mouthful.

I told him to swallow his hotdog and he did, rolling his eyes.

"I said-."

"Yeah, I heard you, it was just disgusting."

"Right. But I mean, she wouldn't have gone that far. Where could she have gone?"

"I don't know. She might not even be in the state anymore. As much as I hate to admit it Jack, and trust me, I really do, your brother might be right about this one."  
Jack's expression told me he wasn't buying it.

"But, it's up to you. If you want to keep searching, we keep searching. I got your back."

Shooting me an appreciative look I didn't miss, Jack gestured hopelessly at the unruly streets.

"I just don't know, Celestia. I feel like she's here. But, maybe I'm wrong? It doesn't matter either way. Without her, we have no idea where we're going, or who we're up against. We need her."

An idea started to plant fragile roots in my mind.

"Does it necessarily have to be Cassandra? Or could it just be someone who knows about our quest?"

"I guess it doesn't have to be her," Jack shrugged, "But what's our alternative?"

I dropped a wink.

"I have an idea. Follow me."

* * *

 _Our target and the boy moved further north through Chicago, weaving through the busy streets. We kept up with ease, moving silently and swiftly. Over the rooftops. Three steps behind them. Watching from a storefront. They didn't notice us. We watched carefully. I wasn't there personally. I was analysing the intel from our temporary base. Celestia, Celestia. Always so predictable. I took a long sip of my coffee. We needed to follow her, keep tabs on her. Especially on this quest she had accepted. Typical. I shook my head, signalling to one of my people. They conveyed my message, and our people tagging Celestia crept closer._

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"Shh."

Jack made an exasperated noise as I dragged him down yet another street. We were nearly there. Finally, we came to Jackson Park.

"Okay, here we go."

"Here we go what? It's a park."

"It's Jackson Park."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. You know the statue here?"

"The Statue of the Republic? Yeah."

"Well did you know it's actually a statue of Athena."

"I-...No, no I did not. You want to contact Athena? Celestia, that's dangerous."

"Well we want to know about our quest, don't we?"

"Yeah, but we don't know if Athena will answer, or if she will take kindly to you calling her."

"Are you going to stop me?"

"I could."

I tilted my head at him.

"Could you though? I'm pretty sure I won our fight."

"Just, remember?" Jack scoffed, "I had a sword to your throat."

"I was holding back."

"No...you...no you weren't."

I was. Jack's face hardly contained his dismay.

"Right? Right, Celestia?"

I started walking to the statue, Jack's calling behind me. There was a small gathering of tourists around the base of the statue, posing and taking photos. I waited until they moved on, giving Jack time to catch up.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I nodded, kneeling where the tourists were just standing. Then I had to stop. I looked to Jack.

"Um...how does this work?"

"Just talk to her," he shrugged, "and hope she hears."

Helpful. I closed my eyes, trying to think of what to say to my grandmother.

"Hey, Athena?" I mumbled, "Um...it's Celestia. Daughter of...of Malcolm Pace and Nyssa Barrera? I...I just want to talk."

Nothing. I looked to Jack who gestured for me to go on.

"It's about the quest I'm on. We need to know what we're doing to stop Chaos. Please. Can you help? We tried to find Cassandra, but we couldn't, and we need your knowledge to decipher this prophecy."

"Uh, Celestia."

Jack pulled my arm, dragging me back. What was he doing? A vibrant gold light pierced my eyes, making me squint. The statue was glowing.

"Did you do that?"

"No. Did you?"

"No."

"Huh."

We kept moving back as the glowing brightened, hands shielding our eyes. All at once, it diminished, leaving spots in front of my eyes.

"Celestia."

I looked for the source of the unfamiliar voice. There was a tall woman standing next to the statue, dressed in gold streaked battle gear. Her steel-grey eyes were evaluative and her blonde hair was in tight braids. Was this…

"Athena?" Jack gasped.

She smiled at him.

"One of the Herondale twins, am I correct? Jack?"

He nodded, awestruck. Athena turned to me.

"I cannot be here long. You needed my help, granddaughter?"

"Yes. The prophecy. We need to understand it and figure out where we're going, what we have to do. We tried to find the prophet Cassandra's reincarnation, but she disappeared before we could find her."

"That was a smart move," Athena credited, "Unfortunate that it didn't work out. What do you need?"

Jack passed her a slip of paper he had written the prophecy on. Athena read it over a couple times, lips pursed.

"I see."

"Can you help?" Jack questioned carefully.

A few seconds of silence.

"Oregon."

"Pardon me?"

"You need to go to Oregon. I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you at the moment."

"But, where in Oregon?"

"You will know when you get there. Follow your instincts."

Okay? Oregon then, I guess.

"Thank you, Athena."

"It is my pleasure."

Her gaze grew troubled as she looked to me.

"Celestia. Can I speak to you privately?"

My stomach dropped. Jack seemed worried, but he backed away.

"I'll go Iris Message the others," he told us slowly.

Once we were alone, Athena smiled at me, much to my surprise.

"You've grown so much since I last saw you."

My face must have conveyed my shock, because Athena's smile widened.

"Oh yes, I've known you since you were very young. Malcolm was one of my favourite sons. And who did you think gave you those swords?"

I touched a tentative hand to my earrings.

"These are from you?"

"And your grandfather, Hephaestus. I designed them, he constructed them. I hope they are working well for you?"

"Ye-yes! Of course. They're the reason I'm still here."

A soft smile.

"You mustn't discredit your skill, Celestia. You have a great destiny ahead of you. Almost as great as that Herondale boy."

"Jack? He has a greater destiny then me?"

"Your destinies are intertwined. You will see."

Not cryptic or weird at all. After a brief pause, Athena spoke again.

"You have been to Camp Half-Blood, haven't you, Celestia?"

I nodded and Athena pursed her lips.

"How is Annabeth and that husband of hers?"

I raised my eyebrows at the 'husband of hers' remark. Athena didn't seem too fond of whoever that was.

"Well, Annabeth and Bianca are good, from what I can tell-"

"-And Percy?"

Percy? "I didn't see him?"

Athena scoffed. "Typical."

Before I could jump to Percy's defense, Athena turned her face skyward, rolling her eyes.

"Zeus needs me. He's probably lost the TV remote again. I must go. I hope the information helped you."

I thanked her, still slightly heated at her barb at Annabeth and her husband. And with another golden glow, she was gone. Jack came out from behind a nearby bush, smirk on his face.

"So, my destiny's greater than yours, huh?"

"Were you eavesdropping, Jack? Not very becoming of you."

"Just a smidge. Everyone's heading our way now. I hope for their sakes that Zack isn't driving. Then, we're going to Oregon."

I nodded and we took a seat on one of the empty park benches looking over the park. My mind began to wander back to what Athena had told us.

Intertwined destinies? What did she mean by that?

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	20. 20: Jack

Hey Guys!

Jack again! Little of a delay in posting because the internet at my grandparents is real slow. There is a lot of driving to get to Oregon, so instead of describing the landscape for hours or bypassing it all together, I thought I'd add in some team bonding (a bOnDiNg mOmEnT...with no cradling in arms sadly). Hope you enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-20-

Jack

* * *

Intertwined destinies? What in Hades was that supposed to mean? Pretty cliche line, to be completely honest. I glanced across at Celestia, who was staring up at the sky. Did she know what Athena had meant? She caught me looking and I turned away, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Where are they?" she asked, scouring the park, "They should be here by now."

I agreed. It had been an hour since Athena's little visit. They had the van still. They should be here. As if summoned by our wondering, the van came skidding around the corner, nearly taking out a taxi parked along the street. Celestia and I jumped up, jogging over to where Nisha and Kenzie were stumbling out of the van, looking sick. Zack leaned out the window.

"Your chariot awaits!"

"I wish," Celestia muttered and I hid a smile.

She walked up to the driver's door.

"Out."

Zack's face fell.

"Why? I'm a great driver!"

"Babe, you're not," Nisha told him, looking pale, "Let Celestia drive."

Kenzie nodded in agreement. With a pout, Zack stepped out of the van, allowing Celestia access. Returning a smug smile, Celestia retook her place behind the wheel. I skipped forward, slipping into the passenger seat before Zack could reach the door. With a dramatic sigh, Zack moved to the back with Nisha and Kenzie who moved across to make space for him. Settling into her seat, Celestia leaned over the back, meeting everyone else eyes.

"I believe you all owe Jack an apology?'

Rosiness crept up my necks as Celestia continued to glare.

"Sorry," Kenzie and Nisha apologised after a slight pause.

Zack's jaw remained clenched. Celestia smiled sweetly at him.

"Cat got your tongue, Zack?"

"You were right," he muttered, and I felt a satisfied grin creep onto my face, so I turned to look back out the windscreen.

"You're forgiven." I told them. "Let's get going. We have a lot more driving ahead of us."

"Yeah. You said Oregon, right? Where exactly in Oregon are we heading?"

They picked up on the glance Celestia and I shared.

"What?"

"Well, Athena didn't exactly say where. She told me we'd know when we got there." Celestia explained.

"Well that's helpful," Zack drawled.

"Hey, I got us a direction. At least we aren't running back to camp with our tail between our legs anymore."

Celestia spoke in a flat tone, but her words were barbed, shutting Zack up. Silence fell over everyone as we settled in for a very long drive.

"How far away is Oregon?" Nisha yawned, sounding tired.

Celestia thought for a second.

"Not sure...'bout thirty hours? It should take us two or three days, depending how late we drive."

That drew groans from the back. Celestia handed me the map, pointing out where we currently were.

"Just let me know when we get close to that turn-off."

I gave her a mock salute, fixing my eyes on the road. She rolled her eyes, but I could see her smile and it made me grin.

...

"This is the most boring thing I have ever done in my life." Kenzie was sprawled over the center console, talking to Celestia who was still driving. "I mean, how much longer will this stupid thing take?"

"Kenzie it's literally been two hours. Twenty-eight to go."

She moaned, pressing her face into her hands.

"I need entertainment or I am going to pass out."

"Do you wanna play a game?" Nisha called from the back and Kenzie sat up so fast she nearly hit her head.

"Oh my Gods, yes. I will play anything. What you got in mind?"

"Truth or dare?"

"In a moving van, on a highway?" Celestia chimed in, "Probably not the best idea."

"Never have I ever?" Kenzie suggested, but Celestia shook her head.

"No liquor. It's no fun if we're sober."

Zack sat up.

"How about 'What if'?"

We waited for an objection from Celestia, but none came. She was looking thoughtfully out the windscreen.

"How do you play?"

Zack perked up at not being instantly shut down. He cleared his throat importantly.

"Basically, we go around in a circle. Someone asks a 'what if' question, and everyone has to answer. It doesn't necessarily have to be the truth though, because whatever answer is the best, the person who said it gets a point."

Competition. I like it.

"Who judges the best answer?"

"The question giver."

"Right, right. Sounds fun."

I grabbed a piece of paper from the center console and a pen. Splitting it up into five columns and labelling each, I waved it in the air.

"Scoring sheet. What are our stakes?"

"Death to the loser!"

We all gave worried looks to Nisha who lowered her fist.

"Kidding guys, kidding."

"What about loser has to buy dinner?"

I pointed to my wallet.

"Well, its kinda me either way."

"Winner gets shotgun?" Zack suggested, but Celestia shook her head.

"Not fair. I'm the only one who can drive. Well, who can drive properly."

"How about the two losers have to switch clothes until we stop for the night."

We all looked at Kenzie in surprise, who shrugged.

"Daughter of Aphrodite. I know how to play a good game. Alright, let's get started. Who's first?"

"Okay, okay," Nisha started, "What if you could change your godly lineage?"

Ouch. Hit a sore spot there.

"Um, Athena?" I replied, not really thinking too hard about it, "I love their cabin."

"Zeus." came Zack's answer, to no one's surprise, "Power."

"Actually, a descendant of Tyche would be nice."

Everyone gave Kenzie confused looks, but Celestia nodded.

"Goddess of luck. But, why?"

"It would be nice to have some for a change," Kenzie shrugged, "What about you Cel?"

"All of them," Celestia replied, superior smile on her face, "Nisha said linage, not just parentage. I would want to have the blood of as many gods as possible through my family tree, even the minor ones."

Everyone gave nods or whistles of approval.

"Yeah, Celestia wins," Nisha conceded, and I added a point next to her name.

"Definitely an Athena kid, aren't you?" I joked and she poked her tongue out at me.

"Ok, who's next?"

Zack stuck up a hand.

"Where would you go if there was a zombie apocalypse?"

"Not a what if question," Celestia called from the front and Zack rolled his eyes.

"Fine. What if there was a zombie apocalypse?"

"I would die," Celestia responded, ever the logical, and everyone booed.

"Lame." Kenzie teased. "I would be the leader of the resistance force that was fighting back."

"I would go solo," I contributed, "Take out as many as I could before going down."

"Find the cure," Nisha answered matter-of-factly, and we all facepalmed.

Point Nisha.

...

An hour later, and it was neck and neck between Celestia and Nisha. They were both sitting on three points. Zack was on two. I was on one. Kenzie was on zero. We had decided this was our last question, much to Kenzie's dismay. She lost either way. The question now was whether I could scrape by another point to tie with Zack. It was all down to this question. And it was Celestia asking. She was thinking, tapping the steering wheel.

"Got it."

We all waited in anticipation. She smiled slyly.

"What if the world was ending and you only had five minutes left?"

Good question. Everyone took a couple seconds to think. Zack was the first to respond.

"Jump on an escape shuttle. Get the hell out of there."

We all booed his mainstream answer. Nisha was next.

"I guess I would find the people I care about, and tell them all the things I never got to. Spend my last moments with them."

Great. Soppy answer. How was I going to beat that? I pondered it over, waiting to see if Kenzie would answer, but she seemed lost in thought. Fine. My go.

"I would grab my favourite book, climb onto the roof, and begin to read it again. Because if the world is ending, what better way to finish it then with what made it whole?"

Soppy and it should have an effect on Celestia, who I was aiming it at.

"Kenz?"

She sighed.

"If the world ended, I wouldn't care. Not honestly. We would have brought it on ourselves. The corruption we have instilled in this planet would be taking its revenge, and you know what, we deserve it. All the hate, all the wars, we try to equal them out by looking at the peace and the love. We're wrong. So if the world ended, I would laugh. Because it's about bloody time."

Silence. Then…

"Crap Kenzie, telling us what you really think!" Celestia laughed, "Point Kenzie."

With a heavy heart I added a tally to the chart as Nisha and Zack celebrated behind me. Kenzie and I were the last two, tying on one point. Did that mean…

"Let's find you a place for you two to get changed."

"Or, we could call it off?" I tried, but Celestia vehemently shook her head.

"Oh, no. I want to see this."

I shot Kenzie an apologetic look and she shrugged, eyes laughing.

"We lost, fair and square. Time to pay our dues."

We pulled into a gas station within five minutes, all of us piling out.

"Bathrooms are round the back," Nisha gestured, "Off you go!"

"But how are we going to actually trade clothes?" I asked hesitantly.

"I'll be your runner," Celestia told us, "You give me your clothes, I'll give you the others."

"And how far are we stripping?" Kenzie asked, boredom on her face. Nisha made a grossed out face.

"You can keep your under stuff. No one wants to see you switch that."

Oh thank the Gods. That's mildly less embarrassing. At least I didn't have to change with anyone else. That would've been weird. Just like what Kenzie has decided to wear today. I was only really taking notice of it now. It was a high cropped summer top, with a pink floral pattern and ripped overalls.

"Can we keep our shoes?" I asked and everyone nodded.

Good. I did not want to wear whatever those were. Ok. Let's get this over with. I walked around to the back of the gas station. Slipping into the mens room, I called to Celestia.

"I'll give you a shout when I'm...unclothed."

She smirked.

"Right. Just hurry up."

Okay. Right. I stepped into a stall, feeling stupid. This was ridiculous. Shoes off first. I placed them on top of the toilet, now standing in my socks. Okay, now it was just disgusting. I wiggled off my jeans, hanging them over the hook on the back of the door. My black hoodie and Fall Out Boy shirt followed. Now I was standing here, in a gas station bathroom, with only my underwear and socks on.

Amazing.

Now I had to wait for Celestia to come back with Kenzie's clothes. If she did come back. What if they had already driven off? That would be the kind of prank Zack would pull. Maybe I should go check. But I was practically naked. No thanks. Right on cue, Celestia knocked on the men's door.

"You covered?"

"Well, no? But I'm in a cubicle. Just chuck it over the top."

"Alright."

A rain of clothes landed on my head, a buckle hitting me in the eye.

"Thanks," I said dryly.

"No problem," she replied cheerily, clearly enjoying herself, "Gimme your clothes."

I threw them towards her voice and heard them hit the ground.

"Well that was rude."

I looked over Kenzie's clothes as Celestia walked out. Okay. Overalls. Before or after shirt? After? Well how did Kenzie wear them? Uhh… Shirt under overalls, so shirt first. Alright. I picked up the floral top and spun it around, trying to find where my head went in. Coming across a clasp, I paused. This went at the back, right? After a bit of a struggle, I clipped it together, but I then groaned. I was a lot taller than Kenzie. It left my stomach mostly exposed. I tried to pull it down, but I could feel that was a far as the fabric would stretch.

Just perfect.

Maybe the overalls would cover it up? I pulled them on, having to adjust the straps to my height. Wow, they were short. I knew Kenzie was a couple inches shorter than me, but geez. They had a patch of material at the front, at least, so my stomach was covered. Unless you looked from the side.

"Come on, Jack, hurry up!"

I jumped at Celestia's voice.

"I don't...it doesn't fit."

"It's not supposed to. That's the funny part. Come on, Kenzie's already done."

Of course she was. She literally had to put jeans and a hoodie on. When I didn't answer, Celestia sighed heavily.

"If you don't come out, I'm coming in."

"Fine, fine."

I stepped out of the stall and Celestia instantly burst into laughter. I felt a blush start to creep up my neck. Rubbing where I could feel the heat of embarrassment, I squeezed my eyes shut. How did I get myself into this position?

"I know, it looks stupid."

"No it's not that...well it's kinda that. You got the top upside down."

Of course.

"Huh, who'd have known? I have no idea how to work this stupid thing," I told her, twisting to try and catch the clasp, "How in Hades do you guys use these?"

"It's easy, just takes a bit of practise. Here."

Celestia grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around, deftly undoing the buckles that held up the overalls. The back fell and patterned across my back. She then undid the clasp on the back with such an ease, I could hardly believe it. Her fingertips brushed my skin as she reached around me to flip the top over. It tickled and I wanted to burst out laughing. But I couldn't; the others were probably outside waiting for us now. This silence was getting weird. I had to say something.

"So, do you reckon that I pull this look off?"

"Hmm. Well, you're not the ugliest girl."

The top straightened, Celestia began to reclasp the overalls. I tapped my boot against the floor. It was a force of habit.

"Could you hold still? I think you have the straps on this thing mismatched. They're not even."  
"Oh."  
It was a good thing that she was still behind me, otherwise the blush that had crept up onto my face would have alerted her about how uncomfortable I was.

"There. You're all set."

"Thanks."

"Hold on."

Celestia stepped back, putting her fingers up like a camera. She smirked.

"Yeah you're good. Except that top isn't really covering much."

My cheeks heated as I tried to pull it down more, Celestia rolling her eyes.

"Breathe," she told me, "You're actually pretty fit."

That just made me blush harder, ears feeling like they were on fire. What was I doing?

"Let's just get this over with. At least they don't have phones." I muttered and Celestia agreed, walking back out with me to where everyone was waiting.

After everyone's initial laughter, of which there was a lot, we jumped back into the van, Celestia still driving and me still in the passenger seat. It was super uncomfortable in Kenzie's clothes. At least Kenzie looked at ease; my hoodie was about two or three sizes too big for her, and she kept hitting Zack with the sleeves every time he talked. We still had around twenty six hours of driving ahead of us, and after a while the sun started to make its way down. Much to everyone else's dismay, Celestia decided we should probably stop soon, so we parked in the nearest gas station and Kenzie and I switched back, me relishing the simplicity of jeans and a hoodie. Somehow, Kenzie still got changed faster than me. Celestia then pulled us off the road and into one of those roadside camping places, where we were going to spend the night.

...

"I wish we had some smores." Kenzie remarked, "Would really set the mood, you know?"

We all mumbled in agreement, staring into the fire we had lit. I looked around the group, feeling a little more at ease. If that game had done anything except embarrass me, it had been a bit of a bonding moment. I hardly knew anyone in this group, Zack aside. It didn't help that they were all girls; I'd never really had anything to do with them before. Now I knew that Nisha had always wanted to be a trapeze artist, and that Kenzie had an unhealthy addiction to Pringles. It felt good, knowing more about my team. It made me trust them a little more. Not Zack though. Speaking of, Zack's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"So, Celestia. Heard you were talking to Chiron about your parents. All good?"

Idiot. Had he done that on purpose? I could almost feel Celestia's demeanor cool.

"Well, they're dead, so I'm assuming so."

Everyone glanced away as Celestia gazed coldly at Zack. Mood ruined, courtesy of my brother.

"How did they die?" Kenzie asked quietly, and Celestia looked at her.

"Lycaon's attack."

Kenzie shook her head sadly.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Its fine. Really."

At least Zack look sufficiently quelled.

"I remember your parents."

Celestia turned her gaze to Nisha, looking confused.

"I was twelve during Lycaon's battle," Nisha explained, "I fought that day. I saw your parents. They were protecting Chiron from a griffon, while he took some kids to safety at the Big House. They fought well. They were very nice people. Nyssa would always help me with my projects, and Malcolm would always try to prove my theories with me. I'm sorry you didn't get to spend more time with them."

Celestia mumbled her thanks, but I was caught on what Nisha had said earlier. Taking some kids to safety? She couldn't mean Zack and I, could she? It would make sense; the timelines seemed to add up. Not knowing what to do with that information, I tuned back into what everyone was saying. Nisha was telling a story.

"And then I turned to Malcolm, and I said 'It's not going to explode' and he's like 'Nisha it's gonna blow get down!" and he tackled me and it combusted into this huge fireball. We nearly lost our eyebrows."

Everyone laughed, but Celestia's eyes were sad. It must be hard to hear stories about her parents. I knew I didn't like to hear about my father. Maybe I could steer the conversation in a different direction.

"What about that time you nearly blew up the Big House, Nisha?"

"No, no, no," she chuckled, "That was Zack's fault. He's the one who didn't connect the router properly. It wouldn't have happened if he'd just let _me_ do it."

"I did it exactly as you said!"

"Blue wire. I said blue wire. You connected the red wire."

"I swear you said red wire."

Nisha shook her head at him, smiling endearingly. Celestia looked between them.

"So, how did you two meet?"

Kenzie and I both groaned. We had heard this story at least a billion times. That, and the fact that I was there for the entire thing. Sort of. Nisha rolled her eyes at Zack.

"We were playing Capture the Flag. And this idiot tried to best me. Which he still can't do."

"Uh, not true. Nisha tried to tie me to a tree. Literally. And I could so beat you."

Celestia looked between them, gesturing for them to explain more.

"Right," Nisha started, leaning forward, "So it was Capture the Flag, right? And my job was to get the blue team's flag from the top of the hill, because I was on the red team. I snuck around the back so they wouldn't see me, but for some reason, Zack 'had a feeling' that someone would come that way."

"You weren't exactly subtle," Zack interjected, "You literally ran out in the open."

"Well, no one was supposed to be looking," Nisha grumbled, "Anyway, We ended up fighting and I pinned him against a tree. And I was trying to tie him to this tree so that I could go and grab the blue flag, but I didn't have any rope. So there we were, him stuck up against a tree and me stuck holding him there, and what does he do?"

"I headbutt her, thinking 'hey, this might work' and sure enough she stepped back, so I swung my sword-"

"-Turns out that the sword he had, he'd never fought with before. It was funny, he kinda face planted into the ground. And 'cause he was so scrawny, I just sprinted to the flag, thinking that he wouldn't be able to catch me. He nearly did, but he was so out of breath, he had to stop. And-"

"-Scrawny? I'm not scrawny!"

"Well, not now. But back then, you were. Anyway, stop interrupting, can't you see I'm telling a story?"

"Yes. Please continue." He looked like a puppy who had just been scolded. It was hilarious. She was probably the only person in the world who could do that to my brother without getting a rude comeback.

"Anyway, I got the flag and ended up sprinting back past Zack. I don't know why, but anyways-"

"And I try yeeting this stick at her, and it hits her right in the small of the back-"

"So, I end up falling, which gets me a broken nose full of dirt and leaves, a mildly sore back and the flag still in hand, but since I'd made it past the river, so we won. And it was great, cause I turned around and saw this poor, lanky, blonde boy who didn't know what he was doing, 'cause it was his first Capture the Flag, just sitting there in the dirt."

"And then the next day, guess who was teaching me how to control the Mist?"

"Yeah, and that's the story of how I first met this twat."

Zack pulled her into a bear hug and she giggled, pushing away his arms.

"So," she asked, still fighting off Zack, "How did you and Celestia meet?"

What? We weren't…

"We're not together," Celestia told Nisha, raising a surprised eyebrow at me, "What made you think that?"

Nisha facepalmed.

"Right, no, I see the confusion. Just literally how you met. Jack brought you to camp, right?"

Right. Right, right, right.

"Well basically I stabbed her," I started, "And then accidently got her arrested, broke her out of jail and healed the stab wound. Then we came here, where we were attacked by a skeleton army. Oh, we were also on the run from the cops for a while and we stole a car, dumped it in a lake."

"You got held at gunpoint by the cops."

"I got held at gunpoint. And we're also are still kinda wanted for suspected murder of three people. Forgot about that, actually." I chucked.

Silence as everyone looked at Celestia for confirmation. She shrugged.

"Yeah. Basically. No biggie."

Kenzie yawned, breaking the stunned silence.

"Well, I dunno 'bout you guys, but I'm going to bed. It's late, I'm a growing teenager. I need sleep if you don't want me to murder you all tomorrow."

We all agreed with Kenzie, heading back to the van. Celestia and I went back to our seats, leaning them back so we were staring at the ceiling. The others layed out in the back, the night too hot to bother with blankets. After mutters of goodnight, we all tried to sleep. Tomorrow was more driving, but after today, I wasn't too worried. Our team was really starting to gel a bit better, and I had noticed Celestia relaxing a bit more around them, which was great. The better we worked together, the better our chance of defeating Chaos.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	21. 21: Ash

Hey Guys!

This chaps the aftermath of Ash's initiation and her receiving her first assignment with Damien. There's a part from Damien's perspective, and it's been ruled off so that its easier to read. Hope you enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-21-

Ash

* * *

Everything hurt like hell. Even just attempting to open my eyes sent new daggers of pain shooting up my nerves. I had taken one hell of beating. But I had passed, and that's all that mattered. Trying to remember the fight, I realised my recollection was fuzzy. How had I won? I definitely did, because I wasn't dead. But how? Another spike of pain forced a groan out of my mouth as I had to close my eyes again.

"Is she awake?" I heard faintly to my left.

Someone said something about eyes being open generally means someones awake, but it sounded like it was coming through a thick layer of glass. Suddenly, I felt pressure on my arm as someone gave it a squeeze.

"Ash? Ash can you hear me?"

Damien? Was that him? My eyelids were so heavy. I could only make out some grey humanoid blobs.

"Hang in there Ash, okay? You'll be back to normal in no time, I promise."

He kept reassuring me, but I was fading back into unconsciousness, limbs growing fatigued. The pressure of Damien's hand faded as I saw black.

* * *

 _"Will she be okay?"_

 _"She got pretty banged up. Initiation?"_

 _Damien nodded and Miss Tulip tutted._

 _"Looks like she barely made it."_

 _She had no idea how right she was. Watching Celestia fight those soldiers, without being able to do anything or help her was the scariest thing that had ever happened to him. Every time they came even close to hitting her, his stomach had clenched up in fear and he had felt like he was going to be sick. And then when they had stabbed her...it had taken all his willpower not to scream. Instead, he had pushed to the front of the crowd, trying to catch her eye. She was bleeding heavily. He had heard the muffled question his father had asked: do you surrender? He had almost hoped that she would. She was too valuable to his father to kill. He might have even made an exception for her. And even if he hadn't, Damien already knew that he'd rather die alongside Ash then try to make it through the institute by himself. His father wouldn't want to lose one of his best and his own son, right?_

 _Thankfully, it didn't come to that, because Damien had a feeling in his stomach that his life wouldn't have swayed his father much. When Ash had met his eyes, he had tried to will all of his strength into her, to get her back up on her feet. Her eyes were unfocussed, but he could tell she had seen him. And then she had gotten back up and he was able to breathe again. Then it was as if that ability to breathe had been snatched away again when the last student had pinned her. It was a dirty fight and Ash was running on fumes of adrenaline alone, looking wild and in pain like a wounded predator backed into a corner. And then the student had gotten his sword back. Pinned Ash to the ground. Raised it over his head on his father's order. Damien had been about to burst out of the crowd and help Ash when the blade's trajectory had halted and the student gave a wet gasp. Ash had killed him. Driven one of his own knives into his heart. She heaved his body aside with a kick, blood splattering onto her face and body. She shook as she raised herself slowly onto her knees before standing, raising a fist at the silent crowd, who shouted in return. They all started moving forward as a mob, heading to congratulate and welcome Ash. She ignored them, turning to the headmaster._

 _"I finished it," she spat, before passing out._

 _Before the crowd could grab her and parade her across the Institute as the newest member, he was rushing forward, scooping her into his arms and getting the both of them the hell out of there, everyone's hollers following him down the corridors. He had sprinted the whole way to the infirmary, practically spilling her onto one of the beds. Miss Tulip had begun patching her up straight away, and all Damien could do was watch. Now he sat in a plastic chair next to her bed, hands clasped tight, waiting for her to wake up._

* * *

"I keeled heem, dihnt I?"

The relief that had lit up Damien's face flickered as I spoke. That was all the confirmation I needed. Blinking a couple times to steady myself and stop myself from retching, I tried to get my woozy head around the concept. I had killed him. The student. Oh Gods, I didn't even know his name. And I had killed him. I drove a knife into his heart. What had I done? Damien read the panic on my face.

"Hey, you didn't have a choice. It was kill or be killed, Ash. Hey. Hey, look at me."

He tilted my head towards him, grip light but strong on my chin.

"It's not your fault."

My hands were shaking. I wasn't sure if it was the pain, or the fact that I had just ended someone's life. Oh, I was going to be sick.

I had woken up about five minutes ago, trying to slowly ease myself back into reality. At first, I didn't remember much. The pain was too overwhelming. But then I had started to poke at the memories, and the dam wall shock had set up in my mind had collapsed, drowning me. I had sat straight up, ignoring the sharp pain and nearly headbutting Damien in the nose. Damien had tried to talk to me and get my attention, but I was reliving my fight in my mind, caught in its clutches. When I got to the end, where I...where I…

I had fallen back down onto the pillows. Damien had been about to call for Miss Tulip when my eyes snapped back open.

And here we were.

I nodded at Damien, not really believing him, only wanting him not to worry. My ribs creaked as I breathed out slowly, making me wince.

"How bad?"

"Bad. Very bad. You nearly died."

"You're telling me? I kinda noticed."

"Stab wound in shoulder. Slice on your hand. You have three snapped ribs; two on the left, one on the right. You dislocated your jaw a little, but that was fixed pretty easily. You nearly broke a finger. And there is a heap of bruising and even some internal bleeding." Damien recited at a deadpan, eyes scanning over me with an emotion I didn't want to name. "Like I said. You nearly died."

"I'm sorry."

"Just don't that again, okay? Please, I don't know what I'd do."

I sat up, ignoring the ache from...well, from everywhere. Plonking my head on Damien's shoulder, I tried to think of anything but the fight. Damien wrapped me up in his arms as tightly as he could without hurting me, chin resting on the top of my head. My back was at an odd angle, but it didn't matter. It was comforting to be wrapped up in his arms.

"But, hey. Look on the bright side," I muttered, "We get our first assignment soon."

"Woo," Damien sighed half-heartedly, his breath funnelling through my hair, "That is if you can get out of this bed by then."

"You bet your ass I will."

He chuckled, blowing my hair into my face. My eyes drifted around the infirmary, skimming over the other patients scattered around the room. They were drawn to a girl lying on her stomach, bandages soaked in blood lacing her back. Was that?

"Damien. Who's that?"

"She was in here when I brought you in," he shrugged, "Looks like lashings to me."

That's what I had thought. It looked like the girl from my class, the one who's gear wasn't hidden properly. My throat tightened at the phantom feeling of the whip slicing through my skin and muscle. I never wanted that to happen to me, or Damien. Ever. A glance at the door. Miss Tulip could walk in any second. I detangled myself from Damien, looking at him firmly.

"We need to be more careful about our friendship. Your dad knows. What if it attracts the attention of someone who doesn't care what he says, Damien. We could both get in huge trouble. I don't want you to get a lashing, not because of me. I don't know what I'd do with myself if that happened."

"That's not going to happen, Ash."

"You don't know that. It could. And I would never be able to get it off my conscience. I don't want that happening to you. Or anyone, for that matter."

"Right. Yeah, it's probably for the best then."

Then why did it feel so wrong? As if on cue, Miss Tulip came marching through the door, holding a bottle of something that seemed golden in the sunlight. She twisted the lid from the bottle, cautiously pouring it into the lid.

"Good. You're up. Drink this."

Without waiting for a response, she pressed the cap's edge to my lips, the smooth liquid sliding down the back of my throat.

"What was that?" I spluttered, the room already starting to spin.

"Just relax. It will help."

...

It took six days before Miss Tulip would release me from the infirmary. I was mostly okay, with just my shoulder still causing a bit of a problem, but I had a salve I supposed to apply each night that would help with the tissue damage. Other students gaped at me as I made my way down the hallways. Everyone knew me now. The girl who wouldn't surrender. The girl who fought with a knife hanging out of her shoulder.

The girl who stabbed George in the heart.

I found out that was his name. I didn't even have to ask; people spat slurs at me in the halls, telling me how George should have lived. While some people regarded me with awe or fear, some looked with fury. The ones who knew George. He wasn't supposed to die. The only one supposed to die was me. Damien shooed some students off with a glare as I came to a stop next to him. We were outside the headmaster's door.

"You ready?"

"No. You?"

"Nope." I sighed. "Let's go."

We pushed open the doors and, both throwing snarky looks at Debra, made our way into the headmaster's office. He regarded us, gesturing that we take a seat. We did, Damien on my left.

"I'm assuming you two know why you're here?"

Of course. We were getting our first assignment. Damien and I had been waiting for this moment for so long that it seemed like it wasn't happening, even as it unfolded in front of my eyes. I couldn't believe we were really here. And working together, no less. The headmaster slid a tan folder across the desk, eerily similar to the one I saw in our meetings.

"All the details you need to know are in there."

With a glance at Damien, I opened it. The first thing that stood out was the image stapled in the upper left corner. It was a hazy photograph, taken from a street camera. It showed a man walking down the street, grocery bags in each hand, face partially obscured by a San Francisco 49ers cap. I checked the credentials below. Jay Splinch. Came across from Vietnam with his mother; half vietnamese. 6'0", olive skin, brown eyes and hair. Former military with combat experience. A couple minor felonies here and there. I turned my gaze to the headmaster.

"Jay Splinch," he explained as I passed the file to Damien, "He's caused a bit of trouble recently."

"What kind of trouble?" Damien asked, eyes scanning the information.

"The kind we aren't going to let slide. He is your first target. Tomorrow, you two are going to the address listed below and gathering information. I want everything recorded, even if it doesn't seem relevant. Understood?"

I nodded, brain still processing. Jay Splinch. Our first target. Alright. Damien's eyebrows furrowed.

"This address is in San Francisco. That's pretty far away. Are we driving there and back or are we staying there until the job's done?"

Back and forth from Sacramento to San Francisco? Damien's right, that would take forever.

"Staying. We've organised a place in San Francisco for you, and have organised transport there and back once you've done what we want you to."

"Which is…?"

"For now? Information. We will keep you updated."

I realised that was our cue to leave. It seemed that we had hardly gotten here. Damien recollected all the resources from the folder, stuffing them back inside.

"We can keep this, right?"

He took his father's condescending look for a yes, subtly giving me an annoyed glance. We were told to reconvene tomorrow before Debra closed the doors on us with a resounding thud. Without discussion, Damien and I set off for our favourite place to figure out what we were going to do next.

...

The library was almost completely silent except for the occasional turning of pages. Damien rolled his eyes at a note I had written him.

' _Seriously_?' He wrote back. ' _You couldn't just use Google Maps_?'

But I had already set off to find the most recent maps the library had in stock. Finding an edition from 2017, I headed back to our table, dropping then with a thump that sent curious glances our way. I raised my eyebrows triumphantly at him, flipping forward until I found '1688, 14th Avenue' in the San Francisco map; Splinch's address. Sliding it across to Damien, I snatched our notepad.

 _'This is faster than Google Maps out here. Check out the area around it.'_

After a quick read over, Damien gestured for the notepad, which I passed over.

 _'Not any restaurants, but he's across from a park...hard to watch but regular walks or runs could work?'_

 _'No hotels either.'_ I added. _'We would have to be staying somewhere else, like an apartment or something.'_

 _'Duh.'_

I glared and he grinned. What else could we find out? Not much until we were there in the flesh. But maybe there were a couple things…

 _'Can you pull up the building plan?'_ I sent over. _'I'm gonna find out more about Splinch.'_

He headed off to the right, while I moved downstairs towards the 'Criminal Records' section, disguised as the 'History of Imprisonment'. Finding the section, I scanned until I came across 'Sp', where Splinch would be located. File in hand, I walked back to our table, Damien still searching for the building plans.

"Alright, Jay Splich," I muttered to myself, "Reveal your secrets."

The file didn't speak back of course, but I flipped open to the first page. It was a different photo this time; Splinch was dressed head to toe in jail oranges, bruises and a long cut patterning his face. One eye was swollen closed. The date was just over a year ago, and he had been released only last month on parole. Well, the officers must not be doing a very good job of keeping an eye on him then, because apparently he had done something to tick off Mr Morgenstern. Not a good move. But, what had he done? The latest time, and longest time, he was in jail was for being involved with a drug smuggling gang called The Vipers. Stupid name, but who was I to judge? Lucky for Splinch, he wasn't locked away for very long, pleading he didn't have anything to do with the whole operation. The other offenses were mostly overnight stays, with things like brawling and intoxication.

Seemed like a fun guy.

Lived alone, no close relatives or family in the area. There was that mention of military experience again. That meant we would need to look out for that. Damien sat down next to me, holding a photocopied sheet of paper. Must be the plans. Grabbing a pencil from the container sitting in the center of the desk, he circled a couple areas as I leaned over. I gave him a questioning look.

 _'Exits.'_ He wrote next to them. I nodded and he continued marking.

 _'Unoccupied rooms.'_ He wrote next. Then a room was marked with an 'x'. _'Splinch's room.'_

I studied the design, sliding Damien the profile I had found. It seemed like he only had a study on his second floor, which would work to our advantage.

 _'Window?'_ I asked, and Damien leaned across and marked it with a 'w'. Okay. So window was looking like our best option. It faced a small garden. Would it be possible to get in through there? We'd have to see when we got there. The loudspeaker cracked, signalling the end of that period. But we didn't have to move; when you received an assignment, it took priority over your other classes.

We stayed in the library until dinner.

We had compiled a profile of our own on Jay Splinch. Whatever information we could find on him, where he lived and what he did we had written down in our notebooks, which we now had in our gear pockets. After dinner, we were going to go back and comb through for anything else we might have missed. Then tomorrow, we would take it to the headmaster and he would send us on our way. Forcing down some chicken, the seriousness of our situation started to settle on my shoulders. We had our first assignment. We were officially part of the institute. And if we failed.

Well I didn't like to think about that.

"Hey."

Damien interrupted my pondering.

"What?"

"Aren't the stars beautiful tonight?"

He was using our secret code. But why did he want to meet on the roof?

"They sure are." I replied.

I'll see you there, was the hidden answer. He turned back to his chicken, chuckling at something a student down the table had said. I pushed my food around with my fork, appetite gone. My stomach was too jumpy with nerves to fit any more food in. I stood when everyone else did, heading back to the dormitories. We had maybe an hour of free time, which we were really supposed to spend in the dorms. I split away from the group, taking a long way around. Instead of heading to the dorms, I was heading for the roof.

...

"Sorry, sorry. Some guard nearly caught me." Damien finally pulled himself up over the gutter, coming to sit next to me. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Only like, ten minutes. Almost thought you weren't coming for a second there."

"Well, I'm here now. Better late than never."

"Excuses, excuses," I laughed, nudging his shoulder. "So, what's up?"

He grinned at me.

"Well it was your birthday 'bout a week ago…"

"Mm."

"And I said I would get you an amazing present, didn't I?"

I was intrigued and also a little flattered. No one at the institute actually cared about my birthday, other than Damien, initiation aside. It really meant a lot to me that he bothered.

"So. Do show."

He pulled out of his pocket a small package, wrapped in plain brown paper. With a face that was starting to go tomato red, he handed it over.

"If you don't like it that's fine, I just saw it, and I thought you would like it and-."

"Shut up and let me open it."

He sat back, clearly more than a little embarrassed. I couldn't say why. I started to peel back the edges of the wrapping, not wanting to tear right into it. Partly because I didn't want to accidentally break whatever Damien got me, and partly to enjoy the look of wary anticipation on his face. A small, dark box slid out into my waiting hand. With a curious glance at Damien, who gestured for me to continue, I opened to lid.

It was gorgeous.

The cover was an intricate design of woven copper, giving it the appearance of vines, or a loose mesh. The blue inlay shone through the gaps, the azure gems glittering, even in the dim moonlight. The chain was one of the thinnest I've seen, but looked strong, made of a different metal to the rest of the pendant. It shone a light silver.

"This metal in the chain. Titanium?"

Damien nodded.

"Wicked."

"So...you like it?"

"Like it? I love it! It's gorgeous. Where did you find it?"

"Stall at the markets."

Flipping it over and over in my hands, I ran my fingers across the smooth surface. It really was stunning.

"Aw, Damien!" I pulled him into a tight hug, "You really shouldn't have."

"Trust me. I'm glad I did."

My ears went pink at his comment. He held out a hand and I passed it over, turning around so he could tie it for me. He brushed my hair off my shoulder, making sure there was none in the way and leaving my neck bare to the cool night air.

"Ow!"

"Ah, sorry."

He had pinched my skin in the little clasp. We both burst into fits of giggles as he finally fixed it.

"Sorry, sorry. Never actually used one of those before."

"Yeah, I could tell."

It sat neatly in the curve of my collarbone, the weight not bothering me at all.

"You realise I won't really be able to wear this around the institute, right?"

Even if people didn't make the link that it was from Damien, it was still something shiny, and here shiny tended to disappear mysteriously. He nodded.

"Yeah, but I thought you could wear it when we're not at the institute, like when we're on assignments and shopping and stuff."

I touched my fingers to its intricate front. I would wear it every chance I got. It might even fit under my gear. I would try it when I was back in my dorm, away from watchful eyes, of course.

"So, what are you thinking about this Splinch guy?"

I thought about it.

"Well he's had a bit of a corrupt past, what with the drugs and the gangs and such, so he can probably recognise when someone is following him. Considering that he was one of the only people in said gang to avoid a life sentence, it's also fair to assume that he would be pretty cautious with his information."

"And the military history," Damien added, "He knows how to fight, and probably knows a couple of our minor tracking tactics. If he's really good, he might even be able to recognise if we've gone through his room."

"So you're saying this could be difficult?"

"I'm saying it could be dangerous."

"Damien Morgenstern, if this is your way of trying to tell me to stay out of this I swear-."

"No, no, no. Just...be careful, okay?"

"You too idiot. I don't want either of us getting hurt."

With that slightly sour note, we parted ways, both heading back to our dormitories. I laid for a long time on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The pendant was safely stored in a pair of socks in my trunk, which I had shoved back a bit further than I usually would. I listened to the soft, continual whirring of the fans as I tried to will myself into a dreamless sleep. One where I wouldn't see the flames, or hear the screams. It didn't work, and this time there was a new face in the building. George yelled at me over the crackling of the fire, hand pressed to steadily bleeding chest. I couldn't escape him. Every new ablaze room I stepped into, he appeared in front of me.

Back and forth I turned, my body tossing and turning on the bed. After the staircase collapsed beneath me again, I stared up his blood-stained face as he slowly drew the blade out. With a fierce scream alongside the bellow of the fire, he dropped, driving the blade into my chest. I woke up in a cold sweat, like I always do, nerve endings still in shock. But the dormitory was deserted, a blueish moonlight streaming through the open windows. I drew my arms around me. It was cold. What the hell had happened? Suddenly, I realised there was a figure standing to my right. Dread stabbed my stomach as I fought the urge to turn my head. Heat radiated off them as they leaned forward, face next to my ear.

"Extinguish the fire," he rasped, "For it will burn all."

And this time, I woke up for real.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	22. 22: Celestia

Hey Guys!

This is going to be a double post because I had a CRAZY Christmas seeing all my fam and New Year's parties and stuff. Happy New Year, by the way. Since its 2019 now (in Australia at least), I'm going to increase my posting schedule to every six days! Yay! That means that Chapter 24 will be posted on the 7th (because I'll post 23 in just a couple of minutes).

Hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave any feedback or ideas in the comments!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-22-

Celestia

* * *

"Okay, we are officially leaving Iowa!"

Everyone cheered as we crossed the state border. Only five more or so to go. We were now driving steadily along the South Dakota and Nebraska border, kind of popping back and forth between each state as the road curved. As the only person with a fake license, I was still driving. Jack had lost the front seat to Kenzie this morning, so he was sitting in the back with Nisha and Zack, chatting about sword-fighting techniques, while pointedly ignoring Zack at every opportunity. I could have joined in, but I was caught in an intriguing conversation with Kenzie about hell.

"That doesn't make any sense, Cel."

"It does though. Think about it. If heaven is a reward for doing good in our lives, shouldn't we get rewarded in hell for doing bad? I mean, hell isn't run by God in the general Christian beliefs, right? It's Lucifer's kingdom. So why would he want to punish the people that God tells him to? You would think he would throw them a party or something. Like hey, you murdered six people? Well that's pretty cool, but Craig? Craig here murdered ten! So he gets better treatment. Sorry bud."

"Well he was God's favourite angel." Zack interrupted from the back, "So what if there was some residual loyalty?"

"Well, yes, he was God's favourite angel," I explained, "But then when God created man, he ordered Lucifer to love them more than he loved God."

"Which Lucifer wouldn't do, because he loved God the most," Jack continued.

"So that's why God sent him to hell; because he refused to love humans more than he loved God." I finished and Jack nodded in agreement.

Zack whistled.

"You two go to bible study together, or what?"

More like binged the same T.V. show. I took a left as Kenzie directed, merging into a different lane. The discussion picked back up as I dropped back to the pace of the highway.

"But is there actually any evidence of a hell in their beliefs?" Nisha asked, "I mean, there's paintings and artworks and such, and a couple 'first-hand experiences'." She made little parentheses with her fingers. "But no one actually has any proof, right?"

"Yeah, mainly just artworks done by 'enlightened' persons." I used the parentheses too. "Have you ever heard of the Winchester Psalter? It's the first ever image of Luci being portrayed in the cage. It's wicked."

I smirked at the rest of them shaking their heads. Zack seemed to be having a mini panic attack in the rear view mirror.

"Did you seriously just give Satan a nickname?"

Crap. I did. It just kind of slipped out. That's the problem with being in the Supernatural fandom; you don't realise it's crazy, until you say it out loud. Jack shot me a laughing look as I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Right." said Nisha slowly, "So, do you think Tartarus is like what they all think hell is?"

I shrugged.

"Personally, I feel that hell would be different for everyone. Like one person might really hate bugs, so it would just be bugs everywhere. Or someone might hate the ocean, and they would just be sinking in the ocean."

Everyone kind of blinked at me, but then started to nod.

"Mine would be clowns." Kenzie shuddered. "Just clowns everywhere. Hate them."

"Ghosts," Zack added, "Scary bastards. You seen the Conjuring? Gods, that movie gave me the worst nightmares for a week. My hell would be like a messed up haunted house."

"Heights." Jack muttered to my surprise, "I don't do heights."

"But you said you navigate by the rooftops," I whispered to him through the gap between my chair and the door.

"I fight it," Jack whispered back, leaning forward, "Helps me keep it under control if I know I can survive if I fall, or if I know what I'm doing. But its skyscrapers and stuff like that freak me out."

Huh. I gave him a little half-smile. Zack made a confused noise behind me.

"Autophobia? What's that? Fear of automatic cars?"

"Fear of isolation," I explained to Zack, turning back to the road, "Was that yours Nisha?"

"My hell would be just me," she nodded, "Infinite nothingness and just me."

"Huh." Kenzie turned to me. "What about you, Cel?"

Dread built up in my stomach, and my fingers tightened around the steering wheel. I held my breath, feeling as though I were there. The thought of walls pushing closer, space getting limited, oxygen running low, screams going unheard…

"Spiders," I replied, releasing my breath, "Descendant of Athena, remember?"

"Bull." Nisha called.

"No, seriously, spiders are so horrible with their creepy-crawly legs and-."

"No. Bull! Look out!"

I jerked the wheel sharply to the left to avoid something huge barrelling into the van. Horns beeped at me from the rest of the traffic. I couldn't do anything, instead focussing on not get the car blown up. Coming to a shuddering halt at the guardrails of the road, I leaned forward, trying to see what that was.

"What the hell?" Jack asked, moving up next to me. "What was that? Nish, did you say bull?"

Before I could process the fact that Jack had just called Nisha 'Nish', Kenzie was pushing me to the side.

"It's coming back! Get out!"

Kenzie and I spilled out of the driver's door, landing heavily on the bitumen. My elbow stung. I had a scrape which I quickly rubbed spit onto to stop the bleeding. Grabbing Kenzie's hand and pulling her up, we turned back to the van, moving back a couple steps.

"What was it?" I asked, "A bull did you say?"

"Not a normal bull," Kenzie replied, drawing her short-sword, "Definitely not a normal bull."

Before I could ask what she meant, Zack, Jack and Nisha came stumbling out of the back of the van, running over to us.

"Move!" they yelled, frantically waving their arms to our right.

We ran over, meeting them with our weapons drawn. Just in time. With a sharp crack of metal, our van went flying, huge dent in the side. It tumbled over the guardrail, right where we were just standing, landing with the sound of shattering glass in the grass below. I rose slowly from the crouch I had instinctively dropped into, shielding my eyes against the midday sun. Twin puffs of steam made its way leisurely through the air, but not from our van. They were from the two giant mechanical bulls pawing the road in front of us.

...

"What do we do?"

We were standing extremely still, weapons in hand, staring wide-eyed at the pair of bulls in front of us. I called upon my knowledge of them.

"Okay. I'm pretty sure these are Colchis Bulls. They were created by Hephaestus for King Aeetes. They're made of bronze, their horns are silver, so hard to damage. They can breathe fire, and the metal is seriously hot, so don't touch it."

"How do you know all this?" Zack asked.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Sometimes it's helpful to have a nerd on your team."

The bulls started pawing the ground, horned heads jerking around, an eye always kept on us. They looked like they were getting ready to charge.

"Mortals have evacuated the highway," Kenzie updated us, "We can fight them now."

"Yeah, but how?" Nisha asked, "Layered bronze is practically impossible to get through."

"They're machines," I answered, "Sure, they're Hephaestus' machines. But they're still just metal, wiring and programming. We just need to-."

I leaped to the right with Zack and Kenzie as the bulls charge forward, horns lowered to impale. Rolling into a crouch, I checked to make sure Jack and Nisha were okay.

"Draw one that way!" I yelled, "We're going this way."

They both gave me thumbs up, backing up along the road. I turned to Zack and Kenzie.

"Let's go."

We all back-pedalled, keeping an eye of the bulls. They were shaking the remnants of our van and the guardrail off their horns, turning around to face us. Just like we had hoped, one stampeded towards Jack and Nisha as the other started to lower its head towards us.

"Zack. Celestia. We need to move."

Kenzie was right. I was trying to see what was happening with Jack as he dashed out the way of another charge, rolling deftly. But I needed to focus. He could handle himself.

"But, Nish! I should be over there with her."

I had to pull Zack out of the way as the bull charged again.

"Focus Zack. Nisha can deal. Kenz. That bracelet shield of yours. Is it fireproof?"

"Yeah, mostly. But I don't know if it can cover all of us."

An idea was starting to form. But I needed more time. We moved out of the way again, and I tried a strike with my sword as I flew through the air. It glanced off, the only indication I had even tried being the sparks flying in the air. It was a heavy landing, the strike throwing me off balance. I spat grass out, standing back up. Kenzie was to my left, hand pressed to a cut on her arm. She waved me away as I went to check it out.

"I'm good."

Zack skidded to a stop next to us.

"So. Do we have a plan?" he panted.

"Kinda. Kenz, can your shield extend and cover your whole body?"

"Yeah, it can."

"And how strong is it?"

"It won't break."

"Any shock absorption?"

"Yeah, it's pretty good."

I joined the pieces together in my mind. There were a lot of holes. But it could work. I drew Zack and Kenzie in closer, still keeping an eye on the bull as it rounded for another attack.

"Okay. This metal, right? We can't cut through it. Our best bet is to bash it."

"Bash it?" Zack asked, doubt layering his tone, "How are we gonna do that?"

"Kenzie will-."

We had to split as the bull charged again. This time, it seemed to anticipate our movements, and it swung its horn, nearly impaling me. It was learning.

"Kenzie when it charges again, I want you to form a full body shield and launch yourself at its side, okay?" I yelled, running over to them.

Kenzie nodded, forming her shield to a small buckler size for now. Zack's broadsword was drawn in front of him, ready to strike. My blades were loose in my hands, ready to attack or move if I needed to. We waited for the bull to charge.

...

Steam billowed out of the bull's nostrils as it tilted its head inquiringly. We waited, muscles tense. It pawed the ground, the metal making sparks along the bitumen. We still didn't move. With a metallic screech that set my teeth on edge, it drove forward, metal components clattering as it ran.

"Wait for it."

It was getting closer. The bitumen shook, little pieces of gravel bouncing up and down with the pounding of the bull's feet.

"Wait for it."

The heat emitting off the bull's body started to become uncomfortable, making the sweat on my forehead warm. It was close, so close that I could see its mechanical eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Now!"

Zack and I both dove away, rolling over our weapons and clearing the bull's horns. Kenzie instead jumped at a diagonal angle, expanding the shield until it was full sized, covering and protecting her from head to toe. As the bull drove past, she pushed forward, powering the shield into its unprotected side. There was a crack and the bull want flying, side crumpled. We whooped.

"Nice Kenz! Do it again."

We repeated the same action, this time with Kenzie darting the other way. Steaming and with both sides of its armour dented, the bull regarded us warily.

"Kenzie, go for the neck. Pin its head down."

Kenzie nodded, not looking at me. She kept her eyes locked with the bull's. It snorted, stomping its feet and sending vibrations our way. It was trying to intimidate us. I snatched a quick glance at Zack.

"Zack, we want to go for the neck. There should be some kind of wiring we can cut, and if Kenz can move the armour..."

"We should be able to get to it." He finished. "Gotcha."

With a tinny bellow, the bull charged forward, horns yet again lowered to disembowel. But this time, it was heading straight for Kenzie. Zack and I tried to get its attention by yelling at it, but it wouldn't be deterred.

"Kenzie, you need to move," I yelled, "It's onto you."

But Kenzie stayed firm, eyes locked with the bull's, hands tight on her shield, which had now returned to its buckler form.

"Kenzie!" Zack tried, but she wasn't listening. And the bull wasn't stopping, horns levelled exactly at Kenzie's chest. She wasn't going to be able to move out of the way in time.

She was going to be killed.

"Kenzie, bail!"

She pursued her lips, face pale, as the bull neared. Seconds before impact, she dropped like a stone, extending her shield to its full body form. She slipped between the bull's front legs, and, tucking to feet beneath the shields surfaced, pushed with all her strength. The bull, not expecting that attack, was suddenly lifted from below. Combined with its momentum, there was nothing it could do. It went flying, horns making long divots in the road.

It landed on its back and waved its legs wildly, struggling to get up. Seizing the opportunity Kenzie had given us, Zack and I ran forward, striking for the bull's exposed neck. I had to jump back to dodge a searching horn, landing near its rear legs. I hacked as hard as I could at the exposed join of one, and was rewarded with the satisfying feel of blade cutting through the wires underneath. The bull whirred ear-splittingly loud, and I almost had to cover my ears. Zack yelled from where he was at the head. He had to dive backwards as it spewed fire in his direction.

Shoot.

I finished off one of the back legs, the job easier now the the wires were more exposed. With a final spark the leg fell to the ground, wires still carrying electricity. Zack was back attacking the head, moving side to side as the fire followed.

"Kenzie, you good?" I yelled, starting to work on the other rear leg.

A strained groan answered me. Was she okay? I didn't have time to check, and I felt exasperated that I couldn't make sure she wasn't hurt. Zack and I were hardly keeping this bull under control as it was. I exposed the second leg's wires, cutting away until it too was lying on the road. I then moved up to the front with Zack. We took glancing blows at the bull's neck, dodging the flames before trying again. Now that I have removed the bull's legs, it couldn't move or get up. It was stuck here. We just needed to get a clear shot at its neck...

"Kenz! Shield!"

She was crawling off the road in our direction, left leg looking very broken. With a moan, she slipped the bracelet off her arm, throwing it to my waiting hands. Chucking one of my swords to Zack momentarily, I slipped it over my wrist. Willing it to a sharp point, I dropped next to the bull head, driving it again and again into the slit where its head met its body. Zack warded the horns back as I bared the wires and then cut through them. With one final hit, I severed them all, and its head fell to the ground with a dull clunk. Oil pooled under me as I paused for a second to catch my breath. I looked up at Zack, who was giving me an appreciative look. He held out my sword. I took it, sending it back into its sheath and running over to Kenzie. I dropped down beside her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she coughed, clutching her leg, pain lacing her face.

"Yeah I know," I told her, relieved she wasn't too badly injured, "You're totally fine. Wait here. Zack and I are gonna go help Nisha and Jack."

"Where else would I go?" she chuckled as Zack and I sprinted away.

...

Jack and Nisha were holding their own against the second bull, using a technique not unlike the one used in bull-rings. One of them would attract the bull's attention. When it was running towards them, the other ran up and took a shot at the bulls undefended side. They would then both dodge as the bull turned. But it wouldn't last forever.

"You okay?" Jack yelled as we came closer.

"Fine." Zack called back.

"I wasn't asking you."

I rolled my eyes at Jack, joining him on Nisha's left. They both looked relatively unharmed. Jack had a cut across his leg.

"Are you okay?" I asked, gesturing to it.

"I'll live," he shrugged, shooting me a quick smile.

The bull was turning around to strike again.

"How did you guys beat the other one?" Nisha asked, slightly out breath.

"Kenzie's shield," I replied, lifting it up, "We used it to dent the metal enough that it exposed the wiring and gears underneath."

"How are we going to do that this time?" Zack asked.

Good question. Hopefully without another kamikaze dive under the bull's front legs. We all readied ourselves as the bull prepared to charge, stomping its feet and shaking its head angrily. It seemed furious; more angry than the last. Probably because we had just killed its friend. With a steamy squeal, it began its attack. I dove to my left, hoping everyone else had done the same. We regrouped as it made the wide circle to come back around.

"Okay, okay. Anyone got any ideas?" Jack asked.

"I can distract it," Nisha said, wiggling her fingers with complete seriousness, "Mist manipulation."

"Well, I got the shield, so get me close enough to expose the wiring," I added, "You two are basically our brute force and rodeo clowns here."

"So Nish distracts them, you bash them up, and then Jack and I slice the wiring?"

"Bingo. Ready?"

I got nods of confirmation. Letting my breath out slowly, I willed the shield to grow in size, placing my sword over the top in a defensive position. On either side of me, the others took defensive positions too. The bull began its charge.

...

Nisha waited until the bull was about halfway to us before disappearing. The only indication she had left at all was a pop, like a change in air pressure to my right. When she appeared only a couple paces in front of the bull's horns, I had to remind myself that it wasn't her, and that Nisha was just manipulating the Mist. The bull didn't know that though. It skidded to a halt, slashing its horns through Nisha's illusion. It flickered, before reappearing to the bull's left. The illusion made a vulgar gesture, before racing off behind the bull, leading it away from us. We all moved cautiously closer, keeping silent so the bull would stay focussed on Nisha. I caught her attention, and pointed at my side. She understood, angling the bull so that its side was facing us, unprotected. Jack placed a hand on my arm.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" He murmured.

"Nope."

As the bull moved forward again, I sprung, extending the shield to full-length as I ran. Using the shield technique I had been taught, I bent my legs just before impact, driving up as I made contact. It added extra force and upwards momentum, sending shots of pain up my arm. The bull stumbled away, and I had to stop myself from falling as the weight holding me up moved. But quickly there were hands on my arm, pulling me back from where the bull was already swinging its horns in frustration. I shook my arm a bit as Jack and Zack pulled me upright.

"You okay?"

"Sure. Let's go with that."

A plume of steam was rising from where I had crumpled the bull's side. But it had returned its attention to us now. The three of us took a hesitant step back as it lowered its head to us. Nisha flicked her apparition around, trying to regain the bull's attention. It didn't work.

The bull barrelled forward, grinding screech making us cringe. I couldn't hit it again at this pace. The only way I could get close enough was way too close to its horns for my liking. The neck of the bull clunked and rotated as it came nearer. Zack recognised it before we did.

"Fire! Move!"

I dived to the side, rolling across the grass, shield luckily back in its buckler form. My back hit a tree and I gasped, seeing spots for a couple seconds. Then I stood back up, looking to see where everyone else was. Zack was in the grass a couple feet to my left, groaning. Nisha's illusion was distracting the bull again.

But where was Jack?

...

I realised he was going to attack the bull about the same time Nisha did. She increased her attempts to distract it, waving her arms and yelling things I would not repeat, but Jack had gotten its attention when he had slashed it across the dent I had made. Sparks flew as the bull turned to him, head lowered. He darted out of the way of its horns, before moving back in to attack again. I needed to help him. My head was still partially spinning as I jogged over, shield lengthening as I ran. I was still a fair way away; Jack had managed to draw it almost back to where the van's mutilated form was. If Jack saw me coming, he didn't acknowledge it, focus purely concentrated on dodging the bull's attacks before they landed. He was doing pretty well. I was maybe three feet away when the bull finally landed a hit. Jack went flying back over the bitumen as the side of the bull's horn smashed into his ribcage, making an ugly cracking noise.

"Jack!"

The yell was out of my throat before I even realised it. He slid across the road until he hit the guardrail, stopping with a groan.

Crap.

"Hey. Hey!"

I joined Nisha in trying to get the bull's attention, but it was still locked on Jack. It pawed the ground, getting ready to charge him. Jack was hardly moving; there was no way he could get out of the way in time. I needed to get there before the bull. I sprinted diagonally, a couple seconds before the bull shot forward. It was gaining on my lead, metal components squealing and clanking. Extending the shield to full length, I slid across the bitumen, thankful for my jeans, coming to stop a few feet in front of Jack. I only had a second to brace myself before the full impact of the bull hit me, driving me backwards. Both of my feet struggled to gain purchase on the road as the bull kept pushing me back, eyes inches from mine. I was kneeling between its horns, shield pressed to its face. I hit the guardrail next to Jack, slightly winded by the hit. He was looking at me with alarm in his eyes.

"Move!" I grunted to him, having to duck to avoid a horn.

Ever so slowly he began to inch his way under the guardrail, pain obvious. But it wasn't slow enough to escape the bull's attention. It drew back and I slumped forward, shield hitting the ground and shrinking. It turned to Jack, neck working up a fiery attack. It was going to burn him to a crisp. Jack couldn't move out of the way. The shield couldn't take that much heat. So I did the only thing I could.

I grabbed one of the bull's horns, and turned the fire to me.

...

I heard Jack scream my name as the flames washed over my body. The heat wrapped around me like a cocoon, reaching a temperature that was nearly bordering on unpleasant.

It didn't burn me.

It was making quick work of my clothes though. I sighed, wishing they hadn't found out like this. Or found out full stop. I pushed forward through the flames, reaching the bull's mouth. Willing the shield into its smallest form, which was about the size of my hand, I shoved it as far back into the bull's throat as possible. The fire stopped abruptly as it shook its head, trying to dislodge the shield. I heard Jack gasp. Dodging a horn, I placed my hand on the shield, and willed it to grow. It did, first forcing the bull's mouth wide open, and then making the metal groan as it continued to expand. With a sharp crack, it burst through the bull's head, cutting off the mainframe to the rest of the body. Oil splashed onto the road as it fell, eyes dull. Trying to catch my breath, I turned to see Nisha, Zack and Jack regarding me, bewildered.

"What the hell?!"

"Since when are you immune to fire?!"

"Are you okay?"

The last was one was Jack, eyes slightly unfocused from where he was lying on the ground. I nodded.

"Fire doesn't hurt me. Descendant of Hephaestus. I can explain later. But my clothes…"

I had just realised that my shirt was in basically in charred tatters. Pulling the scraps around myself as well as I could, I sighed deeply. At least my only set of jeans were still intact.

"That was my favourite shirt."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 6 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	23. 23: Jack

Hey Guys!

A day and a half out from Oregon, and it's time for a ping-pong tournament.

Hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave any feedback or ideas in the comments!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-23-

Jack

* * *

I was feeling decidedly faint by the time Zack and I had healed everyone. Luckily we weren't all severely injured, otherwise Zack and I would be comatose. Nisha and Zack only had a few cuts, and minor bruising. Celestia had a hairline fracture in her left ulna from using the shield. Kenzie had snapped her femur in two places. Six of my own ribs were broken and one was dangerously close to puncturing my right lung.

But we were alive.

Although now we didn't have a van. It was a bare carcass of what it used to be. Kenzie had managed to salvage a couple of our bags while we were fighting the second bull, but not everyone's; just mine, Zack and Nisha's. Kenzie's and Celestia's bags were stuck in the front seat, which was crumpled too much to get into, especially with a broken leg. After we had regrouped, tensions were a little high. Everyone was looking at Celestia, who was now wearing one of Nisha's camp shirts that wasn't cropped. She looked worried, which wasn't helped by everyone staring at her.

"You want me to explain, don't you?"

We all nodded. She let out a held breath, glancing around at us.

"My mother was a daughter of Hephaestus. Basically, the powers of Hephaestus changed when they got to me. I did a bit of digging, and turns out that I have pyrokinesis. It means I can control fire. It's really rare. I'm also immune to fire, obviously, otherwise I would be a crisp right now."

"But why didn't you tell us?" Nisha asked, voice hostile and eyebrows knitted together, "We could have used that to our advantage."

"I wasn't sure how rare it was. I thought that if it was unusual, you might see me as a threat. I just wasn't sure how you guys would react and didn't want to screw up my chances of getting into camp. I needed to find out what happened to my parents."

Her explanation was met by silence from the group. Looking at everyone's faces, I could see they still suspicious. I wasn't. She had saved my life. That was about all the confirmation I needed that she had my best interests at heart.

"So, can you, like, summon fire?" Kenzie asked hesitantly, looking like she was trying to hold back her excitement.

Celestia held out her palm and a small flame appeared, flickering slightly in the light breeze. We were all mesmerised until she formed a fist, quenching it.

"Yeah. I can."

"Like just a little bit?" Zack asked, "Or can you do the whole body flame thing?"

She regarded him tiredly.

"One, yes I can, although I would probably pass out if I tried it now. Two, only I am fireproof. Not my clothes. So, I am not inclined to burn the only set of clothes I have."

"How hot can it get?" The gap was filled with Kenzie's next question. "Can you do, like, blue flame?"

"I haven't before, no. It channels my emotions, and I don't think I've ever been that pissed off."

"Can you burn other people or demigods?" Nisha piqued up after a minute of silence. Her gaze was critical and Celestia's face grew grave.

"Yeah," she replied quietly, "Yeah it can."

Nisha pursed her lips. I noted how Celestia replied with 'it can', rather than 'I can'. Like she didn't see the fire as her, but as a separate entity. Suddenly, Nisha's hard look softened.

"I had a friend, Leo, who could do what you do."

Surprise lit up Celestia's face as Nisha continued.

"He thought it was like a curse. But it wasn't. He was able to control it, and he would never hurt someone with it. I would trust him with my life. And I still do. I trust you too, Celestia. I know you can control it."

We were all a bit taken aback by Nisha's supportive tone. Out of all of us, she had seemed the most suspicious at first. Celestia gave her a thankful smile as Zack shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm cool with it. As long as you don't melt me or anything."

I think I was the only one who saw Celestia smirk a little as she nodded. Kenzie shrugged too.

"Yeah, whatever. I mean, you can control fire, dude. That's awesome!"

Finally, Celestia turned her gaze to me, everyone else's following.

"Jack?"

Celestia face looked vulnerable, like she expected me to be disgusted with her. I wasn't. Seriously, considering that I could move in and out of the shadow world as I pleased, controlling fire really wasn't that big of a deal. I could see why it had freaked her out though, coming from the person who hadn't told anyone about what I could do. Realising everyone was still waiting for my answer, I felt a smile unfolding across my face.

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily. You're part of the team, Celestia. Fire powers or no fire powers."

Everyone made noises of agreement, and Celestia's shoulders sagged like a great weight had been lifted off them. Kenzie strolled over and chucked an arm around her shoulders, turning her to the decimated van.

"So…," she started, tilting head, "What do we do now that our van's broke?"

"We're gonna steal a car," I replied, cracking my knuckles.

...

"We are not stealing a car." Zack's eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, "We'll get caught."

Celestia and I made 'eh' faces, shrugging, but it was Nisha who retaliated, much to everyone's surprise.

"Well, I think we should," she argued, "It's a long way to the nearest town, and its midday. In fact, it's probably safer that we do, so that we get there before nightfall."

Zack shook his head.

"None of us have licenses."

"Celestia does."

"It's fake!"

"So? The cops wouldn't know that!"

"Yeah, they would. It's their job."

Celestia, Kenzie and I exchanged glances. This looked like it was going to get ugly.

"Well, I'm going that way," Celestia called, pointing to her right.

"And I'm going to go find some supplies," Kenzie added, picking up on the vibe, "Jack? You coming with?"

I nodded quickly, thankful for the escape. We walked over to one of the abandoned cars, glancing through the windows for any food. We could still hear the argument from where we were searching.

"We get caught, we go to jail."

"We're teenagers!"

"Delinquency center then! Same point, Nish. We get locked away!"

"No we won't."

"Fine. Even if we don't. What if we crash? Celestia's not exactly a verified driver."

"Well, she's gotten us this far, hasn't she? And why do you only care about that now?"

I rolled my eyes as they continued, pulling open the door to yet another car. This wouldn't last very long. They were both very opinionated people, but they couldn't stand to stay mad at each other. They'd forgive and make up in a couple minutes. At least, that was the record.

Kenzie and I had found nothing yet; just a couple muesli bars and chocolates. Definitely not enough to get us to Oregon. As we moved further down the road, I began to notice that Kenzie was still favouring her right leg, occasionally rubbing at the left.

"Hey, are you all right?" I asked, putting a hand on her shoulder to get her to stop, "Is your leg still hurting?"

"Oh, no," she replied, looking away, "It's fine."

She was lying. I could feel through my subtle touch on her shoulder that her bone was healed. There shouldn't be any pain. But she was in pain.

"No. Its not. What's wrong?"

She chewed her lip, looking unsure of what to say.

"It's just...I snapped my leg, Jack. I felt my bone break. That was the first time I've broken anything and it hurt like hell. Worse than anything I've ever felt before."

"And you can still feel the pain?" I asked, and she nodded.

"It's like I can remember how much it hurt, and my brain isn't processing that it's healed now."

Oh, of course.

"It's phantom pain," I explained to her, "I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner. It's basically what you said; your body still thinks its in pain, because of how great that pain was. And when I took any the injury, your body was still sending pain signals. It should wear off in up to an hour."

Looking relieved, Kenzie nodded.

"Thanks."

"Glad to help. Let me know if it keeps hurting. Or if you want to talk about either. Breaking a bone for the first time, especially the way you did, can kinda stick with you a bit."

Kenzie smiled, letting me know that she would.

A van stood out up ahead, the blue and orange Walmart logo on the side scratched and dented. But I could still make out the faint, green 'grocery' underneath. Kenzie and I rushed forward to the open back, whooping when we saw what was inside. Crates and crates of food. Fruit, toppings, pastries. The lot. We fistpumped, starting to head back to the group, Kenzie already listing all the different meals she wanted to make. We quickly realised that the argument was far from over.

"So what, you think I can't handle myself?" Nisha seethed. Her hands were waving around, exaggerating each point she made.

"No, babe, I know you can. But handling yourself is different to fighting off like sixty monsters. Being able to 'handle yourself' might not be enough one day. Heck, you nearly died today!"

Zack sounded like he knew he was losing the argument. Kenzie and I took a seat on the hood of a nearby car, watching the exchange. It was as good as any drama show on T.V. I found myself craving popcorn. Maybe there was some in the Walmart van.

"I did not nearly die today. I was fine!"

"Yeah, no. Without all of us here, you would be dead."

"Uh, one, no. Two, the whole point of the quest is that all of you are here, and you guys have my back."

"I just don't like having you in danger!"

"Why, because you think I'll get myself killed?"

"No, because I'm scared something will happen to you. And I don't know what I'd do with myself if that happened, Nish. I don't want to know what I would do, okay? I don't want that to ever happen."

Nisha stopped halfway through her next argument, looking at Zack.

"What?"

"Nish, I don't want you to get hurt. Ever."

I scoffed at the cheesiness.

"What does this have to do with stealing a car exactly?" Kenzie whispered to me and I shrugged.

"No clue."

Zack gestured helplessly with his hands.

"It's just today, I couldn't help you. You were all the way over there and I was over here and if something had happened to you I couldn't have made it over in time."

"Technically, he probably could have," Kenzie murmured, "I mean, Celestia made it over there before you were killed."

I brushed aside that comment. I didn't really want to think about how close I had come to dying today, and how Celestia had nearly died saving me. When she had turned the flame to her, I thought she was dead. Poof. Burnt to a crisp to protect me. I still didn't know what I thought about that.

Too caught up in my own thoughts, I completely missed the end of the argument, looking back up to see Nisha and Zack hugging tightly, Zack's head chin resting gently on the top of her head. Seemed like they were fine again. For now.

We all started as a horn sounded two long blasts to our right, Kenzie nearly falling off the car. It was Celestia, pulling to a stop in a sweet-looking maroon Audi. She was half hanging out the driver's window, with a huge grin on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt this simply gorgeous moment," she called, not looking sorry at all, "But we really should get going before the cops show up."

"Did you steal that?" Zack shouted back.

Celestia slipped back inside the car with a loud chuckle, not answering, which I took as a yes. She revved the engine a couple times.

"Let's go already!"

I was the first to get up, bag in hand. Chucking it in the boot Celestia had thoughtfully opened, I met her eyes in the rearview mirror.

"You're psycho," I mouthed and she winked.

Soon we were all back on the road, crates from the walmart van shoved wherever possible. This new car much faster and much lower to the ground. And the inside was actually clean.

"You realise this is the complete opposite of subtle, right?" I asked Celestia, leaning across the center console. I had won passenger seat again. She shrugged.

"Yeah, but it's a damn nice car."

I couldn't argue there.

...

Nearly eight hours later, we pulled into Pinedale, Wyoming. Celestia had been driving the whole time, insisting that no one else touched her car. She was pretty attached to it. I couldn't say that I didn't like it either; it even had a functioning radio. That's how we filled the eight hours, aside from increasingly ridiculous retellings of our fight against the Colchis Bulls; karaoke from the back seats when we discovered the previous owners Apple Music subscription.

But yeah, mainly the bulls.

"Still not over your kamikaze dive underneath the bull's legs, Kenz," exclaimed Celestia, "What were you thinking?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Kenzie laughed.

"Yeah, you only broke your leg," Zack stage-whispered and Kenzie flushed. We all rushed to reassure her that her move was kickass, self-destructive as it may be, and she looked more comfortable. I could sense that she felt a little left out though. Maybe I could try to fix that.

"Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long for us to get in a fight," Nisha pondered out loud, "I mean, five powerful demigods travelling together? We would have been a pretty big target."

All making noises of agreement, we watched as Celestia pulled into the driveway of The Log Cabin Motel where we decided we were going to stay. The clock on the wooden wall told us it was 9:34pm when we entered. The lady behind the desk gave us a once-over, face breaking into a smile.

"School break road trip?"

We all nodded, rolling with the story she had accidentally provided us. Renting out two rooms, we headed upstairs, finding a nice little lounge that was unoccupied. We chatted for a while about random things and before noticing the ping-pong table, and deciding to have a couple ping-pong tournaments. Nisha smashed everyone; after all, that was pretty much all she did in her free time. After the humiliating defeat, we decided to call it a night, heading to our rooms. Watching Nisha, Kenzie and Celestia walking down the corridor to their room, I realised I had to do something. I dashed forward, catching Celestia's shoulder. She turned around, looking a little surprised.

"Jack. What's up?"

My mind went blank at her words, all possible conversation starters gone.

"Uh...I actually just...wanted to talk…?"

"Such a way with words!" she gasped sarcastically, eyes lit up with laughter. Embarrassment started to colour my cheeks. She noticed, of course, and grinned.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," she reassured me, before turning to Kenzie and Nisha, "You guys go on ahead, I'll be up in a tick."

We took a seat on one of the lounges, Celestia chucking her feet up on the coffee table.

"So," Celestia started, "What's up?"

"Thanks."

"...For what?"

"For saving my life? With the...the bull..."

"Oh, right. It's no biggie."

"Well it kinda is to me. You could have died."

"No, seriously, it's fine. I am fireproof, remember?"

"Yeah, but did you know you could take that kind of heat?"

Celestia didn't answer, hands gesturing as she searched for an answer.

"Well...no...but I was pretty sure."

"Celestia!"

"What? I said pretty sure. Look, I'm fine, aren't I?"

Yeah. She was. I didn't know why this was such a big deal to me, but I couldn't seem to let it go.

"So what you're saying is you could have been burnt to a crisp to save me?"

"Jack," she sighed, "Did you seriously bring me here to reprimand me for saving you? 'Cause I'd do it again."

That didn't help. She narrowed her eyes at me.

"What is this really about?"

I didn't know. This was a bad idea. Why did I ever think this would be a good idea?

"So, when did you discover your fire powers?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

If Celestia noticed, which I was pretty sure she did, she didn't say anything. She shrugged.

"Just kinda happened one day. I just burst into flames like that Jack-Jack kid from Incredibles. It was when I was about six? My parents freaked out and called one of their friends, but he wouldn't come help. Said he was in the middle of some 'important project'. So they chucked me in a pool and I evaporated it all and sat there for about an hour until it went away."

"Then what?"

"Then nothing. It didn't happen again until after they died and I lived with my relatives for a while. By then I could kind of control it, so it wasn't as big of a problem."

"Did you ever accidentally burn something down?" I asked before mentally kicking myself. What a stupid question. Idiot. But Celestia laughed.

"Yeah, a couple times. It only happens when I'm really ticked though, or I'm focussing really hard. I once accidentally burnt someone's eyebrows off."

We both laughed and it eased my nerves a little. Celestia frowned at me again.

"So, you're really not freaked out by my fire?" she asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

"Of course not. We're all freaks here. Welcome to the club."

"Except Wonderboy over there?" she smiled.

"No one cares about him. His ego is freaky enough."

Her nose crinkled as she held in a laugh, and I had to stop myself from laughing with her. Eventually, we both subsided into giggles, the tension of the day making its way through.

"You really don't like him, do you?" Celestia asked, still a little giggly.

I shook my head.

"Nah, he's a twat."

That set her off again, which set me off again, and then we were both covering or mouths and trying not to wake everyone up.

"Ok, ok," Celestia managed through her fingers, "What about Nisha?"

I shrugged in answer.

"She's alright I guess. What?"

"Well you called her Nish earlier, that's all."

"Did I? Well I didn't mean to. I guess after hearing Kenzie and Zack call her that all the time, it just kind of slipped out?"

"Ok, cool."

"Why?"

"Oh, just wondering."

Okay then? I glanced up at the clock, realising it was getting pretty late. Celestia followed my look and rolled her eyes.

"We should probably go to bed. More driving tomorrow."

"Or...we could play a game of ping-pong?"

Celestia's mischievous smile told me she was in.

...

We stayed up until it was almost two. I wish I could say that it was because it was a really close game and we had to keep playing to find out who would win, but it was actually because Celestia kept kicking my ass and I kept calling for a rematch. Eventually, she decided that fifty-five or so games was enough and we went up to our rooms. Zack was passed out on his bed when I walked in, snoring heavily. My blinks were getting heavier and heavier as I lied down on my bed, covers soft and welcoming, pillows so, so comfy. All of a sudden, between my blinks, sunlight was streaming in through the window in our room, which was now thrown open. What? I groaned, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow.

It was already morning. Had I slept at all? As I trudged towards the door, I scratched my head absentmindedly, and was surprised when something came unstuck from my forehead and floated gently towards the ground. It was a bright yellow sticky note. Groaning as I reached down to get it, I realised that it was probably a note telling me where in Hades' everyone else was. I flipped it over.

'Breakfast in the girl's room. Other side of the hallway. -Zack.'

Wow. Zack sure knew how to make me feel those warm fuzzies. Quickly checking that there weren't any more notes left on my forehead in permanent marker, I started heading to the girl's room, definitely not nearly falling down a set of stairs. Everyone else was already in there by the time I came stumbling in, clothes rumpled, hair disheveled. They were eating a delicious looking breakfast; eggs, bacon, crunchy toast. I glanced around the room, taking in the clean bathroom, the neat, orderly bags, and the three girls still in their pajamas, all with messy buns atop their heads. It was so different. So...so clean! Is this what is was like to not be in a boy's room?

"Kenzie this is amazing," everyone mumbled through mouthfuls, and Kenzie blushed at the praise. I took the remaining seat, piling the last bits of the food onto my plate and shoving it into my face. I would need my energy today. Lot of driving to get through. We were still had about one big day of driving by Celestia estimations, and then we were in Oregon. Although, we didn't exactly know where in Oregon we were going. Athena was pretty vague with her directions. I yawned, taking the opportunity to put more bacon in my mouth. Maybe we shouldn't have stayed up so late playing ping-pong. Celestia didn't look tired though. In fact, she looked great.

Not...that's not.

Ugh. My brain wasn't working properly. After everyone had eaten and practically licked their plates clean (Kenzie was an amazing cook), we packed up our bags, taking them down to the front desk. The lady smiled at us.

"Alright, you guys ready to pay?"

I slid across the last of our money, stifling another yawn. The lady gave me an empathetic look.

"No wonder you're tired, sweetie. You stayed up very late playing ping-pong last night."

I could practically feel Nisha, Zack and Kenzie's eyes on the back of my head, and I almost expected to feel my hair scorching.

Thanks, lady.

She wasn't wrong though. I was running on the coffee Kenzie had made me.

"So...how late exactly did you guys stay up?" Kenzie teased as we walked out to the car.

"You know what, I actually don't remember. Jack, do you?"

"Nope. No memory at all. Did we even play ping-pong?"

"I don't know. Did we?"

We both shrugged as everyone raised their eyebrows at us. Celestia started the car as I hobbled in front of Nisha, reaching the passenger door just before her.

"Dude!"

"Too tired. Not dealing. Need sleep. Please, Nish."

There was that damn nickname again. She glared at me for a good couple of seconds before turning away.

"Fine. Get some sleep. You're no good to us tired. Who would I fight of a raging bull with next time?"

Yes! I dropped into the passenger's seat as Nisha dropped into the back. Celestia smirked at me.

"You look like crap."

"Wow, thanks. And how come you don't?"

"Used to functioning on low sleep, I guess."

Lucky. I moved the seat down as far as I dared, not wanting to evoke anyone's wrath. Closing my eyes, I let sleep retake its hold on me.

Except it didn't.

Coffee.

Crap.

I pushed my chair back up as Celestia pulled out onto the highway. She gave me a pouty face.

"Can't sleep?"

"I hate you."

"Want me to put some music on for you? Something to keep you awake?"

That...actually didn't sound like a bad idea. I nodded hesitantly, feeling worried at the wolfish grin she sent my way. She scrolled through the songs for a second before settling on one. Relaxing, smooth bass guitar came through the surround sound speakers.

'Don't you tell me, that it wasn't meant to be.'

I glared at her as everyone lost it. She winked at me, turning back to the road as the song lulled through the car. You know what? Whatever. I would fall asleep eventually.

Right?

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 6 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	24. 24: Ash

Hey Guys!

Ash and Damien have started their assignment, tailing Splinch and gaining information. But there's a complication...

Hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave any feedback or ideas in the comments!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-24-

Ash

* * *

He looked exactly like his photo. It must have been taken recently because even the stubbled beard was unchanged. I slowed my pace, pretending to change my song on my headphones and waited for Damien to do the same.

"You see him, right?" he murmured, dropping down to 'tie his shoelaces'.

I nodded, pretending to smile and laugh at something Damien had said. We had been tailing our target on his way back from the grocery shops, pretending we were on a morning run through the park. We had kept a ways back, our pace casual enough that we wouldn't overtake him or seem too suspicious. Max told us that the headmaster wanted every piece of information we could gather. Apparently, that meant what Splinch liked to eat. I brushed a couple locks of hair out of my eyes, breathing heavily. Why did this assignment have to involve running?

"Hey, do wanna go get an ice-cream?" Damien asked, sweat lining his face too, "I'm pretty sure I saw a kiosk back on the main road with some wicked fudge."

We were both exhausted. We might not have been running fast, but we had run pretty far.

"Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" I scolded, but I was nodding. I really wanted an ice-cream. Like. Would kill someone for one.

After grabbing a couple ice-creams from the kiosk Damien had spotted, we headed back to our apartment. Max let us in from where he was sitting, the door only held open enough for us to slip inside. Any more, and someone would see all the listening equipment and surveillance stacked inside. And our disgusting unwashed plates everywhere.

"Did you get me one?" Max asked, pushing off his headphones and swivelling to face us.

"Nope," Damien replied flatly, moving to his bedroom to get changed.

Max pouted, eyes wide.

"But I love ice-cream."

Damien had been fairly hostile to Max ever since he had winked at me when we had first met him. It made things a little tense, but Max just shrugged it off. Honestly, I think he liked the chance to needle the son of the headmaster. Damien just plain hated him.

Max was our older student. Because this was our first assignment, and because he had his licence, Max was posing as Damien's older brother. I was their cousin instead of sibling, because they looked similar enough for it to be plausible, what with the dark hair and the green eyes, whereas I looked nothing like them. Our story was that we were on vacation here. Same names so that we were less likely to trip up and make a mistake, ruining our cover. Max stayed here and recorded any information we found, while also keeping his own eye on Splinch. He had an easy smile and a pleasant laugh, which was uncommon at the Institute. He was a pretty nice guy.

"So, what you find out?" he asked, spinning a 360 rotation on his swivel chair so he faced me again, "Does he have a secret love of mayonnaise?"

I shook my head, amused.

"No, we didn't exactly go through his grocery list. But he took a different path to yesterday. He certainly is cautious."

Max nodded, his hair flopping a little, before turning back to his screens. He wasn't exactly bad looking. I knew he was fifteen, only a couple years older than me. I shook that train of thought away. Not happening. Damien came back out of his room, now dressed in a pair of grey trousers and a loose-fitting white shirt. After a quick glance between Max and I, he took a seat on the couch.

"Found out anything interesting?"

"Not anything worth mentioning." Max shrugged. "Do you guys want to check out the neighbours' later this afternoon?"

Damien and I both agreed. Anything was better than being cooped up in here, especially with these two trying to goad the other into a fight. I would probably have to punch someone. We were also getting pretty bored. The small apartment had quickly lost its entertainment factor after a couple hours. I guess Damien and I were both expecting a little more excitement on our first assignment. We had flown down yesterday morning to San Francisco, and all we had done so far was watch Splinch from a distance. We were both itching for some kind of action. But it seemed that this assignment was literally just collecting information, which was great fun.

Not.

I got up and moved to my room, switching the sweaty workout gear for a pair of baggy pants and a hoodie with a graffiti-like logo on the front that I didn't know the name of. After loosening my hair out of its braids, I chucked it up in a quick ponytail, little tendrils tickling my face even after I huffed them away. When I came back out, our small printer was already whirring away, spitting out flyer after colourful flyer for some church in San Francisco. I didn't recognise it.

"Its verified," Max assured me, "This is your cover for this arvo. Church-heads."

"Great." I muttered, snagging a flyer, "So the whole 'do you have a moment to talk about Jesus Christ, our lord and saviour' speel?"

They both nodded as I groaned letting the flyer slip out of my hands and onto the wood. I hated this cover. Even though I understood people's obsessions with religions, they were so hopelessly wrong. 'God' wasn't real. The correct term, was 'Gods'. Emphasise on the plural. And they were nowhere near the magnificent, imposing figure they all expected.

They were kinda assholes.

"So what, hand out flyers, meet the neighbours?" Damien asked, "What about Splinch?"

Max was already shaking his head.

"Guy like him is observant," he explained, "There's a chance he might have noticed you this morning. And in his current situation, that might just be enough to make him take off. We don't want to risk that. We'll do it when he's not home, work up the whole street. Even knock on his door, make it look realistic. Figure out who's here, which windows face where, ages, predicted tendencies. Whatever you can find."

Even Damien had to admit, Max knew his stuff.

"So the three of us are-,"

"Not three of us. I'm staying here and checking surveillance."

"So you're our guy in the chair?" Damien asked with a raised eyebrow. Max smirked.

"I'm your guy in the chair."

Okay, so we had a plan. But that was this afternoon. What were we supposed to do in the meantime?

...

Turns out 'the meantime' consisted of a lot of sitting around and doing nothing. Damien and I were dressed in our nicest clothes for our cover, which really weren't that great. I didn't have any formal clothes - dresses were impossible to fight in - so I was in my most acceptable jeans, and my least casual top. Damien had packed a button up shirt, but he didn't have a tie, or nice shoes. And his collar was askew.

"Dames, collar."

"What?" He looked down, going a little cross-eyed. "It looks fine."

I stepped forward, fixing it so it sat flat. He thanked me, looking away. By the time we were leaving our little apartment, we were both practically vibrating with pent-up energy. And were were walking, not driving, which made it even more annoying to get to Splinch's street. The flyers were already awkward to carry because the piles just a little too big to fit comfortably in the hands.

Max might've gone a little overboard with the printer.

When we finally got there, we started at the baby-blue house on the corner, ringing the doorbell and then stepping back. A man about fifty answered the door, smelling heavily of booze. Probably not a good sign of his health, if he was drunk at four in the afternoon.

"Whah you wan?" he slurred.

"Sir, are you a child of God?" Damien asked, holding out the flyer.

His answer was a slammed door in his face. We got similar responses for the next couple houses, with slightly less aggression, at least. It was the modern-looking house three to the left of Splinch's where it changed a bit. We more met at the door by an elderly woman with curlers in her hair.

"Ma'am, do you need Jesus in your life?" I asked, flyer held aloft.

The woman pushed her glasses even further up the bridge of her nose, squinting at us. She shook her head.

"Even recruiting kids these days," she muttered, taking a flyer and moving back inside, "No common decency. Jesus my ass. It's a cult, that's what it is."

I had to stop myself from laughing as she shut the screen door behind her. Damien's bewildered look nearly set me off again as we continued walking down the street. I still had a huge grin on my face as we stepped up to the next house. Maybe it was the smile, but this time we got our most positive response yet.

"Good morning, sir," Damien said to the man who opened the door, "Are you a man of faith?"

The man leaned against the doorway.

"Indeed I am. What you selling?"

"Not selling, kind sir," I rushed to reassure him, the 'kind sir' feeling odd on my tongue, "Just informing. Would you like a flyer? It's for our church."

The man took it, looking at us a bit funny.

"The church has never come around with flyers before. Why now?"

Uh. We hadn't prepared for this question.

"Well, our pastor had an enlightenment," I fabricated, "He wants to spread the messages of God to as many people as possible."

Damien played along, nodding vigorously. The man shrugged slightly, buying our story. A woman came behind him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Honey, Minnie's asleep." She paused, looking at us, a smile lighting up her face, "Who's this?"

"We're from the City Church of San Francisco." Damien answered. We had prepared for this question. "Just spreading God's message of love and service."

The lady took a glance at the flyer her husband was holding, reading it quickly. She nodded, smiling again in our direction.

"Do you two want a drink of something? It must be pretty exhausting walking around all afternoon."

We were both taken aback by the offer.

"We...well we're not really supposed to…"

"Oh please, I insist."

They both stepped aside, clearing the doorway so we could head in. With a shrug to Damien, I stepped inside, thanking both of them. Damien followed me, probably rolling his eyes at my back.

What? I was thirsty.

...

The homemade lemonade was delightfully bubbly and cold. I slurped it up as Damien took dainty sips.

"So how long have you two been a part of the church?"

"Since we were little kids," I replied, keeping to the script, "Our families are both regular visitors."

"Oh, how nice. And do you like the community?"

Bridget, which we had found out was the woman's name, was making small talk as she worked in the kitchen. Her husband, Fred, had gone to check on their daughter, Minnie.

"It's lovely," Damien answered, "Everyone is wonderful."

Bridget smiled.

"Well that's good. Are you two going up the whole street?"

"Yeah, that's our route for today."

"I would watch out for number 1688 if I were you," Bridget commented absentmindedly, "He's a bit of a cracker, that one."

"How so?" Damien asked, and I was impressed with the underlying fear he had managed to add to his expression. I mirrored mine to match his. Bridget was quick to reassure us.

"Oh, he's not that bad, and I'm pretty sure he's not home now anyway. Just a bit of a sketchy past, that's all."

"Oh, okay. We'll maybe just leave a flyer in his mailbox. Maybe our church can help him righten his ways."

Bridget nodded, grabbing our empty glasses and placing them in a dishwasher. Fred poked his head around the corner and murmured something to Bridget, who gave us an apologetic look.

"Minnie's just woken up…"

We got the hint, standing up and thanking the both of them for their hospitality.

The rest of the street was uneventful, only a couple more people taking flyers. Like we had said to Bridget, we didn't knock on Splinch's door, instead leaving a flyer in his mailbox. That was fine. This little trip was for learning about the neighbourhood, not Splinch himself. And we had a lot of information to relay to Max.

...

Breakfast the next morning was some crappy cereal Max had found at the cheap-shop. It tasted like plastic, and I almost skipped it. But I would need my energy for our early morning run. Damien and I set off along the same path as yesterday, deciding to keep our paces casual until we saw Splinch. Max had seen him leave the house this morning, so we might run into him. The chances weren't high, but we would take any opportunity thrown our way. The more we knew, the better. I focussed on the thudding of my feet on the pavement, letting it drown out my thoughts. Damien for his part was doing the same, both of us listening to nothing through the earphones shoved in our ears. To any onlooker, we would look like we were lost in the music, neither of us talking. But we were very attuned to our surroundings, the headphones just a ruse so people wouldn't interrupt us.

There was still no sign of Splinch by the time we had reached our halfway point, turning to head back. We were maybe five minutes away from our apartments as we passed Splinch, driving his grey Holden, number-plate DIW385, which I tucked away. Damien and I almost stopped in shock as he cruised past, heading towards his street. We had seen him. Now what? Maybe if we could relay the number plate to Max, he could run it through his feeds of the street cameras, and we could figure out where he had been? Probably wouldn't help us much, but hey, anything could be essential here. Max was delighted that we got his number plate.

"You see," he ranted, typing furiously at his laptop, "We knew he had a car. We were even pretty sure of the make and model. But he keeps it in the garage most of the time, and we couldn't find out more without staking out the place. And with guys like Splinch, that was not what we want to do. Now that we have it…"

He jabbed one final key, spinning to face us.

"We can use the cams to figure where he's been. Which means, we just figured out the rest of his schedule."

High-fives were exchanged, excitement filling the air at the news. This was awesome! Finally some progress we could report. As all the data streamed across Max's screen, I went to my room to get changed into some more comfortable clothes. When I came back out, Max and Damien looked solemn.

"What?"

"That headmaster's on the phone. He wants to talk."

...

"Max. I trust the assignment is going well?"

Max nodded briskly, before realising the phone couldn't pick up his movements.

"Yes, headmaster. All is going as according to plan."

"What do you have to report?"

Max listed off all the information Damien and I had collected, which while it had seemed like heaps five minutes ago, now seemed hardly relevant. Damien and I exchanged nervous glances. There was a lengthy silence on the other end of the line that make the dread in my stomach writhe.

"This…should be enough. Max, proceed with the next section of the assignment."

"Yes, headmaster."

"Ash? Damien? Are you there?"

"Yes, headmaster," we replied in unison.

"Good. You now know enough about Splinch now to proceed with the other half of your assignment. I expect it to be done by six a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. If it is not completed by then, then you would have failed your assignment. I'm sure I do not have to repeat the ramifications of that."

A lot of lashes. No one lasted long.

"It is a pretty standard job," the headmaster continued, "In, out, shouldn't take you more than five minutes."

I could tell from the look on Damien's face that he wasn't following either. We looked to Max, but he was doing something on his screen, back turned to us. I cleared my throat.

"Uh, what exactly is the next part of our plan, headmaster?"

A sigh from the speaker.

"Well, kill the man, of course."

...

"Kill him," Damien whispered furiously to me, "Kill him? I had heard the rumours, but were they serious? Killing Splinch."

"He's a crook," I whispered back, though the order had thrown me off guard too, "We'd be protecting the neighbourhood. Think of people like Fred and Bridget and little Minnie. They would be so much safer with him gone."

"But killing someone, Ash? Are you really prepared to do that? End a person's life?"

No. Gods no. But what was the alternative? We had been given a direct order from the headmaster. We couldn't not kill Splinch. We would basically get killed ourselves. I started to make a pros and cons list in my head.

Pros: A dead Splinch was one less criminal in the world. It would also make the neighbourhood safer, and I would avoid a lashing that would most likely end in one less me in the world.

Cons: He would die. I would have killed someone. And I would never be able to take that back. I would have ended his existence. Who knows? Maybe he had gone straight after getting out of jail? He might not even be a bad guys anymore.

"I mean, this is what we've been training for," Damien was muttering, pacing in the small space of my bedroom, "Right? To kill someone. I…I just don't know if I can."

"Well, you heard Max. Only one of us is actually killing him. The other is providing cover and making sure things go according to plan."

I could guess Damien's question before it even came out of his mouth.

"Yeah. But which one of us will do it?"

And I already also knew my answer.

"I'll do it. You cover me, okay? It'll be fine."

Damien looked torn, but he nodded.

"Are you sure you wan-."

"No. But I'm going to."

Silence fell as we became lost in our own thoughts. Mentally, I was kicking myself. I should have realised. The training we had been doing, the rumours. Students who had made it past initiation never talked about their assignments, and now I saw why. It made me feel like I was going to throw up. If I had known what was coming, maybe I would have left. Not that I had anywhere else to go. Then my thoughts drifted to Splinch. I held his life in my hands. I was tasked to kill him. To end his life, forever. No takie backsies. I just didn't know if I could do that. Just delete someones existence from the world. Or if I could actually, physically do it. Splinch wasn't a small man, and he had some muscle on him from his time in the slammer and in the military. He was also taller than me, giving him the height advantage. Added to the history of fighting and the suspicious nature, Splinch would not be easy to...kill.

How quickly my mind had already accepted the task set before it.

Before my moral compass could start spinning again, I pushed on, working through the problem. I needed some way to lower Splinch's guard so that I could get in easier. There was always the old 'distract and break in' strategy, but with a guy like Splinch, that probably wouldn't work. He would have security everywhere, and with his suspicious nature, he would smell a distraction. Waiting for him to fall asleep was a bust too; guys like him tend to sleep lightly. That left infiltration. But who would Splinch let into his house? Beggars don't work, contrary to Hollywood's belief. Generally the 'my car broke down' speels only worked for a couple minutes while you used their phone. I needed something more permanent, at least for the night.

Idea.

"Damien, it's Friday, right?"

"Uh, yeah." He frowned. "What's that got to do with anything."

"I'm starting to possibly, maybe, sorta think of a plan for this Splinch situation."

"Uh huh. Do go on."

"Well, what do most teenagers do on a Friday night?"

"Homework?" Damien shrugged, "I'm pretty sure it's homework."

"No, Damien, party. And sometimes, people get very drunk."

"You want to get Splinch drunk?"

"Dam-...let me explain, okay? Stop interrupting. If a drunk girl comes stumbling up to your doorstep, and I mean off the handles drunk, what do you do?"

"Throw icy water on her."

"Right, you let her in. And if I can do a convincing act…"

Damien's eyes widened, "He would let you inside."

"Bingo. And probably stay the night too, because no person would let a drunk girl walk around alone in the middle of the night."

Damien was nodding.

"That could actually work. Do you think you can pull that off though? You're twelve, Ash, not exactly the partying age. And who says he will even let you in?"

No. He was right about that. He might not even let me in. But I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, he has a sister with a history of alcoholism, so I don't know, maybe he'll have some kind of empathy thing with that? But it'll be fine. Easy as pie."

Or, so I hoped.

...

The flames. The screams. George's calloused face, inhuman features. The same maniac expression as he tried to stabbed me, over and over. I managed to get away, running towards the stairs, the only space not encased in flames. As always, they collapsed underneath me, jagged splinters piercing my back with a phantom pain I would somehow feel when I woke up. Footsteps. George was coming. I couldn't move. I was frozen in fear and pain. The stairs always collapsed. But every other room was in flames. Every time I chose the stairs. What if I didn't next time? Before I had time to even begin to explore that option, a firm weight on my leg made me look up.

"Oh thank the Gods," I muttered, relief spilling across my chest, "Damien. What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, staring at my icily. His foot was pressing my leg into the stairs, and I grimaced as he pushed it further into the wreckage. Then I noticed the knife held loosely in his right hand.

"D-Damien?"

With an inhuman snarl, he dropped on me, dagger on a direct trajectory to my heart. I couldn't stop it in time, and it pierced deep in my chest, making me cry out.

"You will pay," Damien spat at me, "You will pay for what you did to me."

I woke up in my empty room with a gasp. There was no shadowy figure this time at least, and no worrying about waking up anyone else in the room. It was just me. I sat up, raking my sweaty hair back from my face and taking huge breaths. Once I had calmed myself down enough, I glanced at my door. Through the darkness, I could make out the faint light coming from the hall. Damien's room was across that hall. Should I go talk to him? I hesitated. What would I say; 'I just had another nightmare. Same as usual. Except, this time you stabbed me in the heart. Weird, huh?'

No. I was fine. Or I would be, in a couple minutes. Telling Damien would just worry him, and I didn't want to freak him out right before we had to kill Splinch. Better to have only one of us shaken up. I took another deep breath, and rolling my shoulders back in an effort to regain my composure. What did it mean? The nightmares were so confusing, and they seemed to be going up a thousand notches. Sometimes they showed me stuff that had already happened, sometimes it was things that hadn't. And it all felt so real. I rubbed my back where I could still feel the ghostly pain of where I had landed on the stairs. I just didn't understand what was happening. I lied back, pulling the covers up to my chin, trying to clear my mind. I would figure out what that meant in the morning.

Thankfully, the rest of my night was dreamless.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 6 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	25. 25: Celestia

Hey Guys!

Finally, they reach Oregon! But things are much worse than they realised...

The mysterious POV also reappears this chapter, so here's another hint.

This demigod is a descendant of Ares.

Altogether, this makes a demigod who's a descendant of Ares, and has some beef with Celestia...interesting...any guesses?

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-25-

Celestia

* * *

We could sense the monsters as soon as we crossed the Oregon state border the next morning. About five minutes from the border, my compass went absolutely crazy, jolting itself off the dash and bouncing off Kenzie's knee onto the floor. All of us went silent as we watched it spinning wildly on the floor.

"What's that mean?" Nisha asked hesitantly.

"Monsters." I replied, picking up my compass and putting it in my pocket. "Lots of monsters."

All conversation stilled as we drove further. We were on edge, scouring the countryside for any malicious movements. But we saw none. In fact, we saw nothing at all.

The place was deserted.

Coming up on a little town named Vale, we decided to see what was going on.

"I got a bad feeling about this," Zack muttered as we came to the edge of the town, and Jack rolled his eyes.

"What part?" he asked dryly, "The monster-detecting compass going psycho, or the fact that we seem to be the only ones out here?"

Both were not good. I pulled over the car so it rested on the grass, turning and leaning across the plushy leather to face everyone.

"What are we doing? In? Out? Keep driving?"

"Well it's our quest to go in there, right?" Jack shrugged. "Let's go already."

"Jack, we wouldn't know what we were walking into," Nisha argued, think logically, the voice of reason as always, "This could be a trap, or an area we might not want to be sticking our noses into."

I saw Zack and Kenzie both take breaths, like they were going to argue their points, so I cut in.

"Look, yes, it's probably a trap, and it's definitely dangerous. But that's kind of a given on a quest, isn't it? So are we going, or not?"

"I still think no." Nisha's voice was firmer and stronger this time. "It's too much of a risk to just go rushing in there."

Glances were exchanged around the car.

"Let's just go," from Kenzie and Jack. Nisha pursed her lips.

"I still think we shouldn't."

"Well it's already three to two," Kenzie pointed out, "Celestia already said she wants to go."

Guess that settled it then. Nisha sat back against her seat, looking slightly pissed. Zack shut his mouth, realising that his vote really wouldn't change much. I pulled back into the road, raising my eyebrows at Kenzie, who shrugged in return. With five people, we were likely to have disagreements at some point. Hell, we'd already had a couple.

I glanced outside the window. The main street was back a couple yards, but looked desolate. The service station looked closed and the neon sign hanging outside was brown from dirt and gunk. It looked like no one had been around for ages. Or maybe they had been hit by a really intense dust storm. Who knows? All I knew, was that this town was as deserted as the main highway. We continued to roll through the main street anyway, speedometer only docking around five miles. My foot was twitching at the accelerator. Any funky business, and we were out of here.

But there was nothing. No noises, no movements. It was a ghost town, but thankfully without the ghosts. Although they probably could've helped us figure out where in Hades we were going. Suddenly, Zack leaped forward, sticking his arm out between Kenzie and I and making me jump.

"What?" I yelled as I swerved the car back onto the road, "What are you doing?"

"I saw someone. In that house back there. I swear I did."

With a quick look at everyone, I turned the car around, heading back the way we had came. I technically turned across a double line section, which was mildly illegal, but who was going to tell anyone?

"No...no...there! That one with the bushy thing!"

Every single house on the street had bushes. Nisha just rolled her eyes.

"That one. Number 1117," she smirked, leaning back to clean her fingernails.

Right. Didn't know how she got that, but okay. We pulled up across the street, eyeing the house warily. It reminded me of a drawing, the way it was completely still and wasn't moving at all. We all turned to Zack.

"Positive you saw something, Zack?" Kenzie asked, raising an eyebrow, "I mean, it could have just been the wind…"

"No, I saw something." He was adamant. "There was somethi-there! Right there! Someone just moved across the window."

We all gazed over where he was pointing, but the house was as unmoving as before.

"Zack, we ain't seeing it," I told him, but he shook his head.

"Well how many times can you expect someone to walk in front of a window? There's someone there, I swear."

And to prove his point, he opened one of the car's back doors and jogged over to the house.

...

"What in Hades is he doing!?"

Zack pushed open the front door and slipped inside the house as, after an initial moment of shock, we all frantically scrambled out of the car after him. We were yelling his name, voices echoing down the empty street, but there was no response. Jack and I were the first to reach the property, sprinting over the grass. Nisha and Kenzie were close behind, and I could hear Nisha muttering under her breath. Something about Zack and his impulse control, I was sure. We were inches from stepping inside, when Zack gave a yell and came stumbling back out, nearly knocking over Jack.

"Holy crap!"

We all waited for an explanation, taking slightly defensive positions. But Zack didn't seem in too much of a hurry, catching his breath with his hands on his knees. After thirty seconds, we all lowered our hands, turning to him.

"Dude. What the hell?" Kenzie asked, "Bad guys or no bad guys? You kinda just ran out."

Zack sucked in a breath.

"Not bad guys. Body."

"Body as in dead body?" Jack asked hesitantly, and Zack nodded.

We all exchanged uneasy glances. I probably wasn't the only one who had been thinking that's what we would run into. This place was too deserted, and there were no indication of people leaving; cars were still in driveways, mailboxes weren't full. All signs pointed to everyone in the town...well you got the point. The question was, what now? I glanced around the group, and noticed Nisha's pondering look.

"Nisha, what do you think?"

Her face was pinched in worry of a sudden realisation.

"I think that something still moved in front of the window." She locked eyes with Zack. "Someone's still in there."

The temperature seemed to plummet as we turned to look at the front door Zack had left open. I saw him give an involuntary shudder out of the corner of my eye, rubbing his arms a little.

"Was the body..." I floundered for the right word, "Recent?"

Zack shrugged his shoulders, not moving his eyes from the door. Right. Helpful. Dread built up in my stomach as I thought of who, or what, could be inside. A servant of Chaos for sure. But I didn't know what exactly. It could be practically anything. And no one looked particularly eager to find out. Kenzie pushed me forward.

"You go check it out. You're the brave one."

Everyone nodded in agreement, shoving me forward lightly. I glared at all of them, but started walking forward. Thanks a lot guys. I reached the ajar wooden door, the morning sun glinting off the ceramic glass and hitting me in the eye. Squinting in annoyance, I nudged it open a little further with the toe of my sneaker. Everyone gave me thumbs up as I glanced back, so I stepped inside.

...

The first thing that hit me wasn't the smell. I wasn't that cliche. No, the wrinkled body was what caught my eye as I drew my swords. It was an older man dressed in his Sunday bests, propped up against the far wall of the entry hallway. Blood stained his front, running in lines long since dried down his button-down shirt. The source was the hollowed out eyes and deep, fragmented scratches lacing the man's sunspot-scarred face. His mouth was open in a soundless scream, and there was small cloth pouch perked between his blue lips. I gagged a little, before regaining my posture.

Then was the smell.

The man mustn't have been dead long, because he has a real fresh smell, like new roadkill. Without going into much more detail, he stunk. But I was more interested in the pouch in his mouth. It reminded me of something…

"Celestia!"

I jumped as Jack yelled behind me, stumbling through the door. He gave me a exasperated look.

"We called your name like six times. Don't do that."

His gaze drifted to the body behind me, and although his face paled slightly, he didn't blanch.

"That our guy?" He asked to Zack, who was standing in the doorway.

Zack nodded, not even bothering to drop a sarcastic comment. Kenzie peeked over his shoulders, making faces of disgust at the the body.

"Gross." she muttered.

Nisha's face was drawn, but she didn't seem all that disturbed.

I turned back to the man, still thinking about the pouch. What could it mean? I knew I had seen it somewhere...but where? I stepped forward to examine it closer, but Jack's hand shot out, clutching mine and keeping in me in place.

"What?" I asked, turning back to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking out the body. Duh."

"Celestia, he's dead. What else do you want from him?"

"I say let her," Zack interrupted, "You wanna go check out the creepy dead guy? Be my guest, but I wouldn't want to be poking it."

Raising my eyebrows at Jack, I slipped my hand from his grasp and crept closer, ignoring his protests. Coming to a stop in front of the body, I knelt down so I was level with him. Glassy eyes stared at me as I waved away the flies and inched my hand closer to the old man's mouth, and the ominous pouch inside. The cloth scratched my fingers as I nudged it gently out, the weight of the old man's limp lips making it hard. With a slight saliva trail, the pouch was in my grasp. Everyone crowded around my as I pulled the stiff drawstring loose, the cloth billowing open in my grasp. It revealed three small bones, yellow with age, a tuft of hair the colour of metal and a plucked flower I didn't recognise. Nisha sucked in a breath through her teeth, eyeing the contents.

"Witchcraft."

We all looked to her, waiting for an explanation, but one didn't come. She was looking from the bag to the man and back again, brow furrowed.

"This is a spell for asphyxiation. Not madness," She muttered to herself, "I don't understand."

"Uh...guys."

We followed Kenzie's pointed finger to the door that had slowly swung open in silence while we examining the pouch. Zack shook his head, voice soft.

"Nuh uh. That's the window where something moved. I ain't going in there."

Jack rolled his eyes at his brother, stepping forward. I followed close behind. Both of us drew our weapons with a barely audible scratch of our blades as Jack reached the doorframe. He turned back to me and held up three fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Zack, Kenz, Nisha. Get in here."

They stumbled in through the doorway, clearly waiting just outside for our call. Their mouths fell open a touch at the scene that awaited them.

"Well good news," I told them, stepping aside to let them walk in more, "The movement you saw, Zack? Just the curtain. But this, however…"

I didn't know how to continue, gesturing flimsily at the room. At the crude drawings, or maybe scrawlings was a more appropriate word, that covered the walls. Depictions of death, destruction and all of it overlooked by an ominous figure clad entirely in black armour, all written in terrifying black Sharpie.

"Chaos," Jack muttered.

We had all made this assumption, but the air seemed to grow colder at Jack's announcement.

"What does this mean?" I asked. "How did this random person see these things? Is he mortal? And what's with the witch's bag?"

"The witch's bag is all messed up." Nisha explained. "It doesn't make any sense."

"And where is Chaos?" Kenzie asked, "Was this a personal visit? Or is it a fallout zone? Is he near here?"

All great questions I wished I could answer. My legs starting pacing on their own accord and I started to drown out everyone else, their voices become low static. I had to figure out what this all meant. Jack shushed everyone as my feet began to tap and my tongue poked out the corner of my mouth. The connections began to come together.

We needed to find Chaos. Dead person, maybe a whole town. Witches bag.

"Cel?"

It was Kenzie over by the desk, shifting through a couple of sheets of paper. I padded over and she passed them to me.

"They look prophetic," she told me, pursing her lips, "Is it possible he knew about Chaos rising before we did? Is that how he died?"

The drawings on the paper were more legible than those layering the walls. Well, kinda. I mean, it was still black scribbles. But these ones were clearly in spirals, looking like a deepening black vortex. I shuffled through them. Most were the same but some depicted extremely graphic scenes of death and destruction. Clearly this man had some prophetic abilities and saw what was coming. But why had he died? And what was with the witches bag? Zack's voice called out from the kitchen. We raced over and all involuntarily took a step back at the scene that greeted us. There was a rat spread across the kitchen bench, entrails splayed and blood pooled and dried. It's rib cage was ripped open and on a plate seated to its right was a collection of small bones. Nisha sucked in a breath.  
"He made the bag."  
But that didn't make any sense. There were easier ways to end your life. And didn't Nisha say that the witches bag was incorrect anyway? Jack stepped into the room, bloody knife in hand.  
"Heart attack," he told us, wiping his blade on a kitchen towel, "Not asphyxiation. You're sure that's what that bag does, Nisha?"  
"Positive."  
"Did you...uh?" Kenzie gestured to the stained towel, face tinged green, "You know...actually?"  
Jack shook his head quickly, holding up his cut hand. "Just needed some blood to figure out how he died."  
Kenzie and Nisha both frowned as Zack shook his head, turning away. Jack's face blanked as he realised he didn't have a good excuse apart from the whole 'descendant of Hades' thing. Luckily for him, I had just figured out our next destination.  
"Salem." I interrupted before he could make matters worse, "We need to go to Salem."

...

"Uh, Celestia...Salem's near Boston. We're in Oregon..."

"Yeah, I thought Athena said Oregon. Generally when the goddess of wisdom tells you something, you listen."

I raised my hands and they shut up.

"Wrong Salem. I mean 'capital of Oregon' Salem."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Ok, I would clearly have to explain myself.

"Well, this dude was prophetic, right?" I started, "So he would have been seeing visions of Chaos. And sometimes when you have prophetic visions, the people in them can reach out and make contact with you. And if this guy made contact with Chaos, he would have been driven to insanity."

I gestured around me. Everyone nodded like they were following, but Nisha's eyebrows were drawn.

"How'd you get Salem out of that?"

"He was going out of his mind. Chaos was driving him literally mad. He needed to warn someone about what was happening. So...Salem...witchcraft...witches bag."

"That's a lot of assumptions," Nisha remarked, ever the critic.

"But she's right," Jack cut her off, "It makes sense. How far is Salem?"

"Six, six and half hours?" I estimated. "We should get going."

"Hold up, hold up," Zack interjected, "We are actually a team here. Shouldn't we at least discuss this?"

"I'm with them," Kenzie told him, brushing past and stepping out to the front of the house, "Let's go."

Leaving Zack mildly slack-mouthed, Jack and I followed Kenzie back to the car. She was sitting resolutely in the backseat when we jumped in, staring straight ahead.

"You alright, Kenz?" Jack asked, twisting around in his seat.

"We have ten days." She replied stiffly. "We need to move faster."

Nisha and Zack back in the car and Kenzie's remark in the back of my mind, I stepped on the accelerator.

...

The sign remarked 'Welcome to Salem!' in a cheerful mood that was completely unlike that in the car. We were all sullen, lost in our own thoughts. The six hour drive had felt like eternity, especially since every time someone tried to start a conversation everyone else shot them down. This whole 'end of the world' deadline was starting to get to us. There was a lot resting on our shoulders and if we failed a lot of innocent people would die.

"Ok, so now what?" Nisha asked, "We're here. I'm not exactly seeing a giant heart anywhere that we're supposed to grab."

She had a point. It was just house after house after-

"Pull over!"

I jerked the wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding a mailbox and sliding across a manicured lawn. Everyone moved their arms away from where they had braced themselves for impact. They all turned to Zack who had yelled.

"Get out of the car," he barked, "There's something up ahead. I don't know if it saw us."

Choosing to ignore the fact that Zack had just given me an order, I spilled out of the driver's side, swords manifesting. We converged in behind the car, crouching so we wouldn't be seen.

"What was it? A monster?" Jack muttered, questions aimed at Zack.

"Manticore." he answered, peeking around the edge of the car, "At the end of the street. Well, I'm pretty sure its a manticore. I mean it looked like someone had duct-taped a lion and a giant scorpion together, so..."

Oh fun. Just what we needed.

"Do we have to engage?" I asked the group, "I mean, couldn't we just duck through this house's backyard? Avoid a fight?"

The faces around me echoed their agreement. We didn't want to start a fight with a monster this deadly, not if we could avoid it. With Jack keeping an eye on the manticore's steady progress forward, we began to slip through the house's yard, having to vault over a pristine picket fence at one point. After our insistent gesturing, Jack scrambled over too, and we were safely out of the manticore's sight.

"Ok, now what? Do just do a block and come out behind it?" Nisha asked.

Kenzie shook her head in disagreement. "It was coming from that direction. Who knows what's that way."

"Wouldn't that be the way we'd want to go then?" Jack asked, "I mean, that would be where the heart is, in theory. The manticore's probably guarding it."

"Or it's on patrol," Zack added, "It could be leaving or going to the heart. We don't know."

They all had good points. But I still felt ill-at-ease. There was something off here. I hushed everyone as a thump shook the ground. We exchanged glances, moving to the edges of the house. My heart sank. That was definitely not good.

Hyperborean Giants. Two of them. This far south? Practically unheard of. But that was just the beginning. Other giants dotted the ranks behind their Hyperborean relatives, height difference making them easy to spot. Pitch-black hellhounds and empousai writhed around their feet, darting around as their footsteps shook the road. Between them were a select few lycanthrope, fur matted and ventus twirling menacingly. The five of us rushed back behind the cover of the house as a chimera roared, mane shaking. We had to shuffle further under the cover of the patio as Kenzie pointed out a group of harpies flying overhead, followed by a drakon whose close bellow make us flinch.

Glances of fear were exchanged between our group as we all came to the same realisation.

It wasn't just Chaos that was being raised.

It was an army.

...

"That's it. I'm out." We all watched silently as Zack paced on the grass, hands threaded tightly in his hair. "I'm done. This was supposed to be a...a...well a quest. How are we supposed to fight a goddamn army? I mean, Chaos? Fighting him would be intense enough. Did he have to call every monster in existence to the buffet?"

No one responded. Zack was echoing our thoughts exactly. I felt like a pit had opened up in my chest. An army. The five of us had to fight an entire army to stop Chaos, Chaos, from rising. Oh Gods. This would be impossible.

"I'm going home." That drew our attention. Zack's tone had become petulant, and he was looking up at the afternoon sky. "That's it. I'm going home. This is too much. We're fifteen for Gods' sake. Chiron can figure out some other way to defeat this. Send some more powerful and experienced demigods."

"Zack we have ten days," Kenzie replied, sounding exhausted, "You won't get back to camp in time to warn them, let alone to assemble a team and bring them back. Chaos will rise."

"But…" he gestured frantically with his hands, "We can't beat this, okay? We will die if we try. It's a kamikaze mission."

"Die for a good cause." Jack muttered beside me and I nodded. Trust Jack to be the one that understood. This was bigger than just us. This was everything.

"I agree with Zack," Nisha voiced to my surprise, "There is no way we can beat thi-"

"-Never thought you'd be one to back down from a fight."

Nisha glared at my remark. Her hand was on the dagger at her side, as if she was ready to gut me on her escape.

"I know when to come back to fight another day. Then again, a descendant of Athena should have some wisdom. Or at least, some common sense."

"I think you should just shove that dagger of your-"

"- Celestia, no. If Chaos rises, there won't be another day," Jack cut in, "He rises, it's over. We would have two, three days max before everyone was dead. We don't have time to go running for help with our tails between our legs."

Once again, it seemed the decision was down to Kenzie. We all turned to her, bombarding her with our sides of the argument.

"Certain death-"

"-Prophecy-"

"-die, do you want to die-"

"-the world, Kenzie."

"Shut up! Just shut up, all of you!"

Silence as Kenzie glared between us.

"I think we should go back to camp," Nisha muttered not very subtly, and Kenzie turned her fierce gaze her way.

"Then go. Celestia, Jack and I, the people who actually have some morality in our souls, will continue. You know, like we've been chosen to? You two tagalongs can run along home now. Besides, we would need someone to tell our story."

Everyone stared at her in shock as she stood, brushing a smidge of dust off her pants.

"Jack. Cel. Let's get going, shall we."

We followed her as if we were in a daze, still not quite processing that Kenzie had just snapped.

"Toodles!" She called over her shoulder as we rounded the corner and started walking in the direction the monsters had come from.

The last thing I saw over my shoulder was Zack and Nisha's flabbergasted faces.

...

"Kenz...do you...do you want to talk or anything?"

"No, not particularly."

I shrugged at Jack and he made a scolding face at me. We had a silent conversation, ultimately ending in me clearing my throat and matching my pace to Kenzie's so we were walking side by side.

"Are you sure? You kinda just snapped back there."

"We were the three chosen for this quest. We don't go home until it completed, or we die trying. They can't handle that, then they shouldn't have come along. Simple as that."

"Yeah but…" I looked at Jack for help and he mimed cutting off two of his fingers, "We did just reduce our numbers from five to three."

"Makes it easier to sneak into wherever the hell we're supposed to be sneaking into."

I mean, I guess she had a point? But clearly, she wasn't in the mood for talking about whatever was really bugging her, so I dropped back level with Jack and we continued our walk in silence.

* * *

 _The group had split, making our job twice as hard. I sent the majority of our team after our target, who had left with the demigods we had identified as Jack Herondale and Kenzie Lovelace, leaving the others, Zack Herondale and an unidentified female by the house. It was the girl they had left behind, however, who caught my attention. We had no records of her. No birth certificate. No anything. She was a ghost, and I didn't like that. So, while the rest of my team was keeping pace with our target, I dropped back. The whole situation intrigued me. Lovelace losing her cool was expected. But the girl seemed to be quite hot-headed, so why do what Lovelace said? I closed in on their position, and was surprised to find them in good spirits. Shouldn't they be disheartened?_

 _"It worked!" Zack celebrated, high-fiving the girl._

 _"Not yet," she reprimanded, "And keep your voice down. They still have to make it out alive. Come on, let's get going."_

 _They linked hands and were suddenly cloaked in shadow. When it cleared, they were gone._

 _Huh._

 _Looked like things were about to get interesting for our target._

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 6 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	26. 26: Jack

Hey Guys!

Hope you enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-26-

Jack

* * *

Well that was an unexpected turn of events. We walked in silence, Celestia beside me and Kenzie out in front. It wasn't all that bad though. We were making good progress towards the center of town, and we had only run into a couple more sets of monsters. It was kinda scary. There seemed to be an endless stream of monsters, and only Celestia could identify some of them. To think that all of these monsters were ready to move at Chaos' whim, ready to march through cities, to camp…

Well, it didn't exactly make the walk a pleasant one.

"This is pretty much the center of town up ahead, over that hill."

Celestia's gaze was fixed on her compass, but she raised her head as she made that statement. Kenzie's stride didn't break. I exchanged glances with Celestia before we both jogged up so we were level with Kenzie.

"Kenz, we need to be a bit more cautious," Celestia started, placing a gentle hand on Kenzie's shoulder, "This is most likely where Chaos' heart is."

Kenzie seemed to deflate a little at Celestia's touch.

"I know," she told us softly, slowing her rapid pace, "I know, I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you two. Nisha and Zack just weren't taking this quest seriously enough. It's Chaos...they don't seem to get how freaking scary that is. He was the first deity, ever. He'll squish us like ants if we don't get to the heart in time."

She was right. We really needed to stop him. But something on Kenzie's face made me realise that maybe there was more to this for her.

"You've been having dreams, haven't you?"

Kenzie's shocked face answered my question. That explained so much. And, could be extremely helpful.

"Dreams?" Celestia asked, "No offense, but what's that got to do with anything?"

"Demigods dreams are sometimes prophetic," I explained, "Especially when related to a quest. Kenz...what have you been seeing?"

"Chaos," came her muted response, "Mayhem. He breaks free of his bonds, uses the heart, possesses a vessel, destroys everything. People, demigods, they all try to stop him. They don't even last a second. In less than a day, it's all gone. Everything." She paused, meeting both mine and Celestia's eyes with her determined gaze. "We are the only thing standing between him and the destruction of the world as we know it."

"We will," Celestia reassured her, "We just need to find the heart."

All moisture fled my mouth as we reached the crest of the hill. Kenzie's response was cut off as she noticed the same thing I did, eyes wide in fear and shock. Celestia gave a low whistle.

"Guess we found where the heart is."

...

It was a crumbing 7-Eleven service station, half submerged in what looked like an old sinkhole. Glass littered the bent bitumen around it and large, jagged cracks ran across the highway. The giant neon 7-Eleven sign that used to sit out the front had fallen backwards, caving in part of the roof.

But that's not what made us back-pedal and take cover in a nearby house. It was the legions of monsters standing careful guard outside. Rings and rings of monsters, too many to name, and some so old that even Celestia couldn't identify them. The patrols we saw before would hardly make a tenth of the army facing us. They stood eerily still, almost as if waiting for a command.

Which, I guess, they were.

There was a silence as we caught our breaths in an open garage of a peach house, trying to come to terms with what we had just seen.

"Crap," Celestia swore under her breath, "That's just amazing. Guess we shouldn't have expected it to be that easy. What we thinking? What's our plan?"

"There is no way in Hades we can fight that many," Kenzie said, "Distraction?"

"They're on guard duty, they won't just come check out anything. Plus, we would need something huge to make sure they all left," Celestia argued, "So, I think that's out. We couldn't sneak in, could we?"

"No," Kenzie agreed, "They'd smell us in an instant."

They kept listing ideas before shooting them down. I kept silent, thinking over my own plan. It was risky, and it sure as hell wasn't my favourite option, but it could just work.

"Hey!" I interrupted. They were talking in detail about a possible giant costume made out of the clothes in the house, which thankfully was not going to be our only option. "I know how to get in."

"How?" Celestia asked.

"Well, I can't really tell you," I started uneasily and Celestia's eyes instantly hardened.

"Jack Aragon Herondale if you are thinking of doing some kind of kamikaze mission I swear on the River Styx-"

"No, no, no. It's not that. And I regret telling you my middle name, just so you know. It's just…you remember what we talked about Celestia? The thing?"

Celestia shook her head before she realised what I was talking about.

"Oh."

Kenzie, who was looking sick of our overhead conversation, sighed impatiently.

"What are you guys talking about!?"

"Jack can shadow-travel," Celestia blurted out, rather bluntly, "He reckons he can get the three of us in that store."

Kenzie, for her part, took it fairly well.

"You can shadow-travel?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a Hades trait?"

"Yeah."

"Well, lucky us then. How would it work?"

And just like that, we had somewhat of a workable plan. Emphasis on the somewhat.

...

Celestia's hand was cold in mine as we faced the abandoned service station, figuring out where I was going to land us. It was dark now, giving me a lot more shadows to manipulate, and the advantage. I was going to aim for the back store room of the 7 Eleven, hoping that it was out of the sight of all the legions of monsters waiting just outside.

"Ready?" Kenzie asked, looking scared but determined to my right.

Celestia squeezed my hand, indicating she too was ready to go. Ok. Guess we were doing this then. I closed my eyes, landscape of shadows blossoming out in front of me. It had the same layout as the city center in front of us, but it wasn't the same in essence. Oily shadows curled around buildings and layered every possible surface in midnight. Knowing that we were now safely coiled in the shadow world, I stood, pulling Kenzie and Celestia up with me. I needed to be careful, more careful then when I pulled Celestia out of the police station. For one, both Celestia and Kenzie were conscious, so that was harder. And we were much further away from our destination.

Oh, and the monsters we had to weave between.

I pulled the girls gently forward by their hands, starting down the hill towards the front of the monster ranks. They stumbled, moving slow in their own motions, eyes half-lidded and sluggish. We reached the first monster, a towering giant with a club hanging casually from his hand. Now to test if my plan would work. You see, I wasn't necessarily sure that the monsters wouldn't smell us passing them. We were in the shadow world, but some of these monsters...well I just couldn't be sure.

Thankfully, we slipped past without incident, the giant's gaze fixed firmly ahead. With a sigh of relief, I began leading Celestia and Kenzie past the rest of the monsters, making sure they didn't bump into any. If we did, when we snapped back into the real world, the monsters might realise what had happened. And we did not want that. Halfway to the service station, a problem arose. There was no way we were getting through there without touching someone. The ranks were too closely packed together. I considered moving around the edges to try to find another way in, but I could feel myself growing weaker the longer we stayed like this. We needed to get in that service station A.S.A.P. I didn't want to think what would happen to Celestia and Kenzie if I passed out now.

That meant there was only one choice.

Swearing under my breath, I pulled Celestia and Kenzie through the ranks, moving through the monsters' bodies. As always, it left a frigid tingle running down my body and left me feeling considerably weaker. But we were through. One last jump through the window of the 7 Eleven, and we were inside. Making sure we were all crouching out of sight, I retracted the shadows, head spinning with the effort. Celestia and Kenzie both gasped, but quickly muffled it.

And we were in.

...

I had made a mistake. Maybe I should have tried to find another way around instead of moving through the monsters. Because they realised what had happened. And they were coming. Celestia and Kenzie practically had to drag me out of the view of the door as the monsters moved ever closer. My sight went fuzzy at the movement, which was probably not a good sign, all things considered. The monsters sniffed the air outside the service station, migrating to the window above us, where I had pulled us inside.

We were so screwed.

One began to growl, muzzle causing a small oval of mist on the window, others following its aggressive lead. Oh, crap. They looked like lycanthropes. My entire body stiffened. We needed to move. But where? The rest of the shop was in clear view of the rest of the monsters. I went to look to Celestia and Kenzie for suggestions, but they were gone. Panic started to set in, before a hand shot out and grabbed my ankle. It was Celestia, reaching out from under one of the packed shelves.

"Hurry up, we gotta move."

Confused, I moved over next to her, realising she was in a tunnel of some sort. Kenzie must already be down wherever the tunnel led.

"There's no ladder," Celestia explained, voice soft, "Just feel your way down. And pull something over the top so they can't see it."

With that, she ducked back down, leaving me very confused. But, trusting her more than I probably should, I started to climb down, back pressed uncomfortably against the rocky wall. Head nearly below the edge, I reached across and dragged a box of cans over the top, completely blocking any light.

After about twenty seconds of sharp rocks, nearly falling and scraped elbows, I reached the bottom of the tunnel. I turned to find Celestia had summoned a small flame in her hand and was extending the other to help me up. We could only stand to a half-crouch in the passage-way I found, rubbing my head. I was about to say something, but Kenzie slammed a hand over my mouth, silencing me and also making my teeth hurt. Then I noticed the scuffles above our head. The monsters were inside.

Thus started the most high-stakes silent argument I have ever had.

I wanted to stay put out of sight until the monsters left.

Celestia wanted to camp out at the bottom of the tunnel and surprise attack the monsters.

Kenzie wanted to get a head start on them and start down the passageway.

It was Kenzie who ended the argument, turning and setting off into the darkness. After a brief moment of surprise, Celestia and I followed.

...

I think the monsters broke into the tunnel about the same time that we realised the walls around us had changed. We had just exchanged glances, eyes on the now smoothed out rock, when a large crash had sounded, back near the start of the tunnel. The glances became fearful and we started to run as best as we could in the narrow and intrusive space. A howl and the clicking of nails on stone behind us meant that the monsters were in hot pursuit. Out of nowhere, I realised that I could see outlines and shapes around me. The tunnel was getting lighter. Were we close to the end? Where even was the end? Was it really a better alternative than the monsters behind us?

Did we really have a choice?

It was much lighter now, and I could make out Celestia's shirt in front of me and Kenzie moving in front of her. Suddenly, Kenzie gave a shout and disappeared from my view. Celestia swore and stumbled back into me.

"What happened?" I asked, increasingly aware of how close the monsters were getting.

"Big drop," She answered, moving forward again, "We need to get down there to Kenz."

With that, she slid forward, dropping over the lip feet-first, hair smacking me in the face as she fell. I heard a thump as she hit the bottom and I shuffled forward, peering down the extremely long fall.

Oh, she had not mentioned how high up it was.

Celestia was moving over to where Kenzie was leaning against a wall, giving me a thumbs up to come down. But, I couldn't. I was frozen on the spot, staring down at the huge drop that awaited me. If I had to guess, I would say it was about forty feet off the ground? Crap. My head disproportioned it, extending it to further, further, until I shook it violently, trying to clear it. It was too far. I would have to slide down the wall of the cavern below, but if I hit so much as one rock, I would be screwed. And there was not enough light in the cavern to cast a shadow, so that option was out too.

Crap.

Celestia had finished checking on Kenzie, who looked okay aside from a couple scrapes and bruises, and was now gesturing for me to hurry up. I shook my head feebly at her. I just couldn't. It was too high, I just...couldn't. Kenzie must have realised the issue because she said something softly into Celestia's ears, who rolled her eyes. She summoned a flame in her hand and glared at me.

What was she doing? Was I...was I supposed to be comforted by the glow of the fire? Wait a tick. Glow. Light. Shadow.

Feeling my head start to spin in protest, I re-entered the shadow world, moving quicker than I usually would to avoid the fall. Eyes crossed, I came back, Celestia standing right in front of me, eyes lit up with the flame and satisfaction.

"Let's go." She gestured to the archway that I hadn't noticed in my turmoil. It was a gilded, gold-inlaid marble, stretching about the height of the ledge we had just come down from. But that was about as much as I could see in the short time. As we passed underneath it, the howling in the tunnel grew closer, echoing around the empty cavern.

I just hoped the ledge served the monsters more of an issue than it did us.

...

"Slow down, Kenz. I can only go so fast."  
Celestia cradled her little ball of fire, running ahead of me. Kenzie was easily ten yards in front. She was almost too eager to get to Chaos. We needed to stop, or slow down at least. Our hands and knees were scraped. There wasn't even a plan. So far it consisted of 'go in,' avoid Chaos,' 'get the heart.' That wasn't even a plan; it was an impossible hope. We were running straight toward a primordial, the first primordial. It was practically suicide.

But I could also see some logical reasoning behind Kenzie's hurried pace. The monsters were slowly but surely gaining ground on us. The growls and clacking of claws on stone grew increasingly louder as our pace began to slow. Well, my pace began to slow. I was pretty sure Celestia and Kenzie were secret marathon runners or something, because they seemed fine.

"Guys."

My head raised from where I was staring resolutely at the ground. Kenzie had come to a halt in front of what looked to be a cave opening. It was pitch-black and even Celestia's summoned flame barely made a dent in its reaching shadows. Celestia walked forward, sticking a hand in the darkness before I could stop her. Her arm up into her elbow disappeared and her eyes widened in shock as I pulled her back out.

"It's fine." She pushed me away, moving back to the cavern. "We can go in there. It's just really...really dark."

She seemed a little freaked out. Kenzie, however, didn't seem to notice, because she pushed Celestia towards the entrance.

"Come on fire-girl. Let's light this up and get out of here."  
Determination chased away the hesitation on Celestia's face as she raised both hands, changing her stance to one more supported, like she was about to get hit by a huge weight.

"Alright. Here goes nothing."

Without warning, fire burst from her hands in two billowing plumes, flying into the cavern and pushing Celestia back, her feet making divots in the loose dirt of the floor. But the darkness hardly receded. She swore, lowering her hands.

"I think it's part of the cavern. Maybe some kind of test? Either way, my fire isn't making any difference. We'll...we'll just have to go in blind."

I didn't get a chance to ask if she was okay, because at that moment, a howl sounded close behind us, resonating off the cavern walls, followed closely by the scrabbling of claws. Claws that were way too close. We started taking cautious steps back, watching the passage behind us. That sounded almost like the monsters were-

"Move! We need to move!"

Crashing into the opposite wall, a mass of fur came skidding around the corner, claws raking the floor. As it raised its hungry eyes to mine, my legs turned to jelly. It drew its lips back in a fang-filled snarl, regaining its feet without breaking eye-contact. Kenzie and I turned at the same time, dashing into the darkened tunnel. I snatched Celestia's arm as I moved past, pulling her with me too. She followed, but stayed facing the monster, who was now beginning to stalk closer, letting my drag her backwards.

It became blindingly clear when we had entered the passageway. No pun intended.

I could still see kind of okay, probably something to do with being a descendant of Hades. Or maybe it was all the carrots I eat. But I heard Kenzie cry out in front of me and Celestia's arm stiffened under my grip. Around ten feet into the tunnel, Celestia shrugged off my hand, moving back towards the monster. I turned, able to see her hazy silhouette in the dark, arms raised to the roof of the tunnel. There was a softening of the darkness as she once again released her fire, blasting it full-force. Loud cracks reverberated through the air and the ground began to tremble underneath our feet. Large pieces of rock began to fall, dust billowing through the air. Celestia stumbled back a couple steps, close enough that I could grab her again and continue. Whatever her plan was, I hoped it would work. Anything to slow down the monsters behind us. There was only one now, but the others couldn't be far behind. We caught up with Kenzie, who was taking it a little slower now to avoid running into anything. I grabbed her as Celestia and I moved past, now leading the both of them and hoping that I knew where I was going.

...

It was impossible to tell how long we had been running for, but eventually the tunnel started to lighten again. We slowed to a stop, dropping each other's hands now that we could all see properly. Celestia looked exhausted. She was pale and let loose a couple rattling coughs as we came to a stop. Kenzie placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged her off, looking back in the direction we had just come.

"It's fine Kenz, I'll live. Do you think it worked? I can't hear anything behind us."

"What did you do?" Kenzie asked, "I couldn't see anything."

"She collapsed the tunnel. We'll have to find another way out when we're done."

Celestia turned a scalding gaze to me.

"Well sorry, Jack. I was trying to stop the monsters from killing us."

I raised my hands in surrender and her look faded. We were all stressed. Nearly dying would do that to you. We needed to make sure we didn't turn on each other because of it. We were supposed to be a team.

"So do we just keep going?" Kenzie questioned, gesturing ahead of us, "I mean, that's where we're headed, right?"

With two non-committal shrugs from Celestia and I, we started to walk down the pathway again, the soft light allowing us to avoid the walls. We rounded one more corner, and came to a stop in front of a elongated corridor, about two people wide, with lit torches lining the walls. At the end of it, I could see a large room, also lit with torches. It seemed to be where we were headed, so we continued, cautious of the fire looming close to our heads.

"Be careful," Celestia muttered as we reached the opening of the room, "We don't know what's in here."

Cautious words in mind, we stepped inside.

Nothing happened.

I was kind of expecting like, the torches to dramatically go out and something to block the door, or for the floor to drop out beneath us, but there was no reaction from the silent room. Dust spiralled in the air as we walked toward the four pathways on the opposite side of the room. The dark doorways reminded me eerily of open mouths, ready to eat us alive.

"Which one do we choose?" I gestured at the openings. "They all look the same."

"Well one's got to be the right one," Celestia said, moving forward to examine the doors, "I guess we just have to pick one."

"That would be the worst way to do it," came a voice behind us, "I would not recommend it."

As we all spun to confront the voice, weapons drawn, the torches went out with a whoosh of air, and the light from the tunnel was obscured as the door we came through was blocked by something I couldn't make out in the dark.

I bloody knew it.

...

"Which door leads us to the heart?"

"Now, that would be too simple wouldn't it?"

The torches relit themselves, revealing our man in front of us was dressed in full battle gear, xiphos extended by his side. He had an angular face with a nose that told me he was an experienced fighter. But there was something off about it that I couldn't place. It made me wary. Well, technically, I should be wary anyway considering the sword and the lights going out and stuff, but this really heightened the feeling. Kenzie and Celestia had their weapons at the ready on either side of me, so I deemed it safe enough to step forward and face the man.

"What do you want? What do we have to do to get to the heart?"

"For now, descendant of Hades and Apollo," the man answered, bleak eyes turned to mine, "Simply answer some questions."

"What kind of questions?" asked Celestia from behind me, "Like trivia style or Sphinx style?"

"Not quite, descendant of Athena and Hephaestus. Not quite."

"Really answered my question. Thanks."

"Let's just get this over with. What happens if we don't answer correctly?"

The man turned his gaze to Kenzie, tilting his head.

"It is not terms of 'correctly', per say, daughter of Aphrodite. More 'truthfully.'"

Celestia groaned next to me.

"Let me guess, one of those 'tell everyone your darkest secret or I kill you' things?"

The man smiled, which was somehow worse than his resting face. It was sinister and stretched above his cheeks like a poltergeist.

"Why indeed."

Oh fun. Really in the mood to tell everyone my secrets.

"Is it just, like, any truth?" I asked, "Or is there like guidelines or categories or-"

"-I will be asking the questions."

Great.

"And if we don't answer truthfully, you'll stab us with your little friend there?" Kenzie asked, gesturing at the xiphos.

The man nodded and the three of us exchanged glances. Kenzie stepped forward, rolling her eyes.

"Let's just get this over with. What's my question?"

"Kenzie Lovelace." The man pondered, stroking where I imagined a beard would be. "Have you told your friends about your little...gift...from Aphrodite?"

Kenzie's face instantly went hard and a silence filled the room.

"Kenz?" Celestia prompted after there was no response for a couple of seconds.

"That's the question?" Kenzie asked instead of answering, eyes narrowed at the man.

He nodded and Kenzie's face split into a smile.

"Then my answer is no. Who's next?"

"But...but you didn't answer the…" the man stuttered before Kenzie interrupted with a wave of her hand.

"Your question asked whether I had told them or not. And the answer is no." She met eyes with Celestia and I. "And, sorry, but I don't plan to."

That was fine by me. I didn't need to know everyone's secrets and stuff, because then I'd have to share some in return. One door behind the man disappeared, melding into the stone wall behind it. Speaking of sharing…

"Jack Herondale. Are you ready for your question?"

I shrugged. "Bring it on ghosty dude."

"Sprite. But alright, young Herondale. What is your biggest insecurity?"

Biggest insecurity? What was this guy playing at? How was I even supposed to answer that? I sighed. Trust me to get the deep philosophical question when Kenzie gets off with a yes or no one...

"Uh...I don't know...I guess my nose?"

Steel on steel as the sprite began to draw his sword. Would that even cut me? Actually, I didn't want to find out.

"Ok, ok, ok. Uh…"

The sprite narrowed his eyes and started to pull out the sword again, taking a step forward.

"Jesus! It's my brother, okay!"

He made a little continue motion and I sighed.

"I guess...that he's better than me? That he always will be? But, I don't really care, I'm used to-Jesus put the sword away! I'm talking, aren't I?"

Reluctantly, the sword went back into the scabbard, but the sprite's hand remained close by.

"Jack just get it all out." Kenzie said, her hand also hovering near her hilt. "The faster, the better."

Easy for her to say, her answer was literally 'no'. Apparently, I was supposed to be having a whole confessional here.

"I guess I feel insecure that I'm not as good as Zack? I don't know, that he's the better brother? I guess he's just...always been brighter than me, you know? Literally and figuratively."

The chuckle I let out sounded forced.

"After...after we stopped talking we got further and further apart...and I just kinda saw him get so popular. Everyone loved him. And I was just his awkward brother who didn't have any friends, who stuck in the shadows or in the library."

I took a shuddering breath, seriously surprised at the reaction I was having. I was over this. It was fine now.

"And…" the sprite prompted.

"And he's the reason dad died. I hate him for that. What the hell, that's the truth!"

"Is it?" the sword was now fully out of the scabbard. "You really believe that?"

"Y-Yes? Yeah, I do."

"Jack…" Celestia cautioned.

"Yeah. Zack's the reason dad died." I told the sprite with force. "I'll never forgive him for it."

With a nod, the sprite returned his sword, stepping back to the center of the room. He turned his gaze to Celestia as I stepped back so I was level with the group again. I pushed the memories the sprite's little question had reawakened right to the back of mind, knowing I had to focus. Another door disappeared, leaving us with two exits.

"Celestia Lightwood. Are you ready for your question?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 6 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	27. 27: Ash

Hey Guys!

Ash and Damien set out to finish their job. This ones eventful lol. Hope you enjoy! (Just reposting for a mistake lol thank you for pointing that out)

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-27-

Ash

* * *

The dress was annoying me. There was a reason I don't like wearing them. I couldn't move my legs properly, I could hardly raise my arms above my head and the heels. The heels. There was no way I was running anywhere in them, which could be quite a problem. Thankfully, I managed to convince Damien to get one of the dresses with the slits in the side, so I at least had some mobility. Although not enough for me to be comfortable in it. It was a miracle in itself that I hadn't already broken an ankle.

"You ready yet, Ash?"

"Just a second!"

I tugged the dress down further, feeling self-conscious. I really hated this, but it was essential if the plan was going to work. And it would have to work. Our lives were at stake here.

"Okay. I'm coming out. Just...just don't say anything."

"Fine, fine, just hurry up. We have a schedule to keep to."

Here we go. I stepped out of the bathroom, already embarrassed.

"Come on, let's get going. I'm already sick of this entire thing."

I brushed past Damien, who true to his word, had no comment. He followed me into the main room of our apartment. Max was waiting for us, and let out a whistle as I entered.

"Cleaned up nice, didn't you? Did you do your own make-up there?"

I did. I had to use it to make myself look older; no one would believe that a twelve-year-old would be partying or drunk. A fifteen-year-old, however...well it was slightly more believable, horrible as that was. That's most of the reason I took so long getting ready. That, and the dress was impossible to figure out. Too many straps for my liking. Damien had taken not even five minutes, slipping into his dark stealth gear. He would be waiting outside Splinch's window, perched in the tree we had scouted out earlier, just in case anything went wrong. Which it shouldn't, but we couldn't be sure. This was our first assignment after all.

Back to the present.

Time to mess up all my make-up.

"Here you are." Max passed over a bottle of scotch he had filched from a store earlier.

I handled it with distaste. I had actually put a lot of effort into my look tonight.

Oh well.

Unscrewed cap thrown Max's way, I walked back towards the bathroom, stepping into the shower. Deciding to just get it over and done with, I splashed it over my body and face, spitting out a little that entered my mouth. Smelling sufficiently like alcohol, I moved over the the mirror, pouring some of the remaining scotch into my hand and smearing it on my face, completely smudging my make-up. Which was the intention, but still sucked. I was about to put down the bottle, when I changed my mind, taking a quick swig and wheezing as it burned down my throat. For my story to be believable, my breath would need to smell like I had been drinking too. And it would help still my nerves, just a little. The clock read eleven when I stepped back into the living room, handing Max back the bottle and wiping my mouth.

"Let's go, Damien. This stuff's already making my dress stiff."  
We left out the front door, Damien giving me a quick good luck before disappearing into the night. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I stepped out into the street, heading in the direction of Splinch's place. Within two minutes I kicked off my heels, choosing to instead carry them in my hand. Which added to the look, I reasoned. Ten minutes of dodging rocks and swearing under my breath, I was on Splinch's street.

Time to see how good my drunk girl act was.

The stumbling wasn't too hard; my feet felt nearly raw. The speech would be a little harder, and I had to make sure I slurred my words. Maybe even talk some nonsense. Doubt and anticipation started to settle in the pit of my stomach, but didn't take as much of an effect, thanks to the scotch. I staggered past Splinch's house, before exclaiming loudly and starting to move back. One of the windows was glowing lightly, so Splinch was home, just like his schedule said he would be. Making sure to stomp heavily along the porch and alert Splinch to my presence, I made my way to the front door. Clearing my throat, I hammered on it, missing a couple times and hitting the wall next to the door.

"Heyyyyyyyy. Is any...anybody hommmmmme?"

Shuffling and thumps inside. I prepared myself, blade of my hidden knife cold against the skin of my leg. As the door opened, I leaned to one side, smiling widely.

"Hiiiiiiii."

I could make out a sliver of Splinch's face in the crack of the door. His eyebrows drew together as he scanned over me.

"Not interested," he said, starting to close the door.

I swayed forward, sticking my hand in the gap of the closing opening. Splinch stopped the door right before it would have crushed my hand.

"Well," I drawled out, leaving my fingers where they were so Splinch wouldn't just slam it on me. "I want to find Matt. Do you know a Matt? I think he lives somewhere, hic, somewhere around hereabouts. He's got like...hair that's like...fluffy and stuff. Is he in there?"

I went to move past Splinch but he was blocking the door still. I could make out the local news channel playing on the T.V. behind him, the soft glow lighting up the room. A frown played across his forehead.

"How old are you?"

"I can drink." I shrugged, pouting my bottom lip. "So leave me alone."

"How many drinks have you had?"

Deeming that he was suitably involved my story, I removed my fingers from the door, holding up six and then seven fingers before shrugging. Splinch's frown deepened.

"Where do you live?"

I looked around like I was trying to find my house, before turning back to Splinch and shrugging again. After a couple moments of indecision, Splinch opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

"Whoop, whoop, after-hic-party!" I called as I stepped inside, intentionally leaning to one side.

And just like that, I was in.

...

"Drink this."

Splinch slid a glass of water my way across the the benchtop. After a small fumble, I picked it up and brought it to my nose, taking a long whiff and frowning.

"It's not vodka?"

"It's water. It'll sober you up a little, hopefully enough that you can tell me where your house is."

I shrugged, but raised the glass to my mouth anyway. I didn't actually drink it though; you could never fully trust a man like Splinch. Feeling extra clumsy, I made sure to spill some down the front of my dress. Splinch tsked and handed me a paper towel, which I used to wipe down my front. It came away a stained brown, probably soaking up the scotch I had spilt on it earlier. I mirrored Splinch's tsk, throwing the paper towel back at him in distaste.

"This is all Jessica's fault. This was one of my absa...asbo...very favourites and she's ruined it. Look!" I gestured at the stains. "She was tuning some guy who looks like that guy out of the toothpaste commercial except with very, very, very, very worse teeth. She knocked my drink all over me and now a smell like booze." I finished my throwing my hands in the air.

"Who'd you get this 'booze' from?" Splinch asked, throwing my paper towel in the bin.

"Well, Natalie my other friend is really bad and stuff but we're okay now and she has a brother named...Bob...Bill...something that starts with a B. He says it's from Romeo and Juliet but I'm pretty sure it's not Romeo. So this dude who's not Romeo is at college and he had a huge, giant, big, frat party because he's cool and the Natalie was like, hey, brother, dude. And he threw another party and Natalie brought me and Jessica and now Jessica's ruined one of my favourite dresses and I am so not friends with her anymore and I smell like booze."

I finished my ramble by nodding seriously. This was actually kind of fun. I just talked nonsense. Splinch was shaking his head at me.

"You really are hammered, aren't you?" I shook my head, moving to stand up, but he took my arm. "No, no, we won't have any of that. You are going to get some sleep and then when you wake up hungover tomorrow, we'll call your parents."

I groaned as he led me away from the kitchen, but inside I was ecstatic. The plan was working.

...

"And if you're going to throw up, for the love of God, throw up in the bucket."

With that lovely remark, Splinch left the spare bedroom, leaving the door a crack open behind him. To keep an easy eye on me, I assumed. Fine by me, it simply made my job easier.

Then started the waiting game.

The later I left the attack, the closer to sleep Splinch would be, and the more off-guard I should hopefully catch him. It was about half an hour I waited. Eventually, I heard Splinch move upstairs, followed by the moving of files. He was in his office. Perfect.

I eased myself of the bed, abandoning the drunk act, needing my stealth now. Footsteps fell soundlessly on the polished wooden floors of Splinch's house, and I was sure to step as close to the skirting as possible to avoid squeaks.

The stairs loomed in front of me. Here's where things got tricky, and I took a quick break to wipe sweat from my forehead. Stairs were notorious for alerting owners of intruders. And Splinch would know that for sure. Of course, I could always play it of as drunk wanderings, but that would blow our only shot.

And if that happened, the Headmaster would not be pleased.

I considered my ascension options. The middle was a no-no; the middle of stairs always creak the most. That was common knowledge. That left the sides, and scampering up the rails. After brief consideration, I opted for the sides. Rails were possibly quieter, but also more risky and slow going. I needed to get a move on. At risk of noise, sides were my best option. Stilling myself with a deep breath, I placed my right foot on the far side of the first step, moving my weight hesitantly. No movement underneath my foot, which was a good sign. Full weight completely on my right foot, I moved my left foot to the next step, as far to the left as I could reach. It may have seemed unorthodox to spread myself out like that, but it kept my center of mass more balanced, and meant I had a stable platform to launch myself off of if need be. I raised my gaze, counting how many to go.

Six.

Right. Left. Right.

It was three steps from the top where I made my first mistake. Too energetic, too filled with anticipation, I put my weight on a stair before checking it. And, sure enough, a reverberating creak echoed through the empty house. The movement of the files stopped.

I stilled my breath as footsteps neared.

He was getting closer.

I was frozen, options for escape not coming to mind.

He was nearly at the top of the stairs.

...

Suddenly, the footsteps halted.

For some reason, Splinch had decided to stop. My ears followed his footsteps back to his desk, and the scraping of files continued. I released the weighted breath I had been holding, barely a whisper escaping. Skipping the stair that had caused so much trouble, I continued, limbs now shaky. I didn't pause to think why Splinch had turned back, instead taking advantage of the moment. A small part of me questioned his motives. What if he had seen me? What if he was just waiting in his room until I came up, where he would grab the closest heaviest thing and-

I needed to focus.

One step left.

With weight spread evenly and no indication of weakness in the stair, I found myself on the landing. I was here. The open door to Splinch's study was to my left, light and the sound of papers spilling out from inside. The hallway leading to it was dark, doors heading out on either side, and a large grandfather clock on one side, ticking away. Its face read nearly twelve. Damien would be in position, and I could make out the edging of the window through the door. There was nothing more that needed to be done.

It was time.

...

This is where the plan got a little lax. There was no way to know when planning this how I would confront Splinch. Too many variables got in the way of constructing a solid plan. So, what I did next was basically improv.

"Splinch."

Splinch raised his eyes to mine, quickly taking in my firm posture, focus gaze and knife in hand. He swore violently under his breath, before narrowing his eyes.

"Should have known. Who sent you? Was it Morgenstern?"

I didn't change my expression, letting Splinch figure it out for himself. He shook his head, laughter in his eyes, giving me another glance up and down.

"What, does he take preschoolers too now? Run along home sweetheart, and tell your boss his money's on its way."

Again, no response. Hesitation flickered across Splinch's face, fast, but not fast enough. I raised my eyebrows.

"I think you know as well as I do, Splinch, that that's not how tonight ends."

Twirling my knife into a more comfortable position, I took a step closer. Splinch's playful expression dropped as he regarded my blade.

"Morgenstern's really got you brainwashed good, hasn't he." Splinch asked, "Running around cleaning up his messes. You really don't know what he's up to do you?"

I shook off his attempt at planting doubt in my mind, taking another step closer. Splinch broke eye contact and glanced quickly at my blade, scanning over my frame. I knew the conclusion he came to before he moved.

"I wouldn't try that if I was you."

"Where did he find you?"

The question caught me off guard, and I crinkled my nose.

"He didn't 'find' me. He saved me. My family was dead. I would have died without his he-"

Too late I realised Splinch's ploy. The hand creeping slowly closer to the paperweight resting on a pile of bills. He pushed forward, off the chair, weight in hand swinging for my head. I dropped to the ground, Splinch's strike flying over my head. Scrambling back as he continued forward, all combat options fled from my mind. I rolled to the side as he drove downwards, driving into the wooden floor and creating a resounding crack. Splinch met my eyes, standing back up over me, tossing the paper weight in his hand.

"Mr Morgenstern must really be getting slack," he mused, "First he's recruiting kids, now he's not even trai-"

He was interrupted by a kick between his legs, courtesy of yours truly. He doubled over, paper weight dropped and an extremely inappropriate torrent of curses flowing from his mouth. Seizing the opportunity, I jumped up and drove a foot into his shoulder, forcing him back against a wall. Before he could react, I jabbed him in the face, snapping his head back. Blade of my knife firmly against Splinch's adam's apple, I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh, he trained us, Splinch. More than you know."

Splinch raised his hands in defeat, dribble of blood making a path down his face. To my surprise, he chuckled.

"He always was a stubborn bastard wasn't he? Fine, fine. I'll get you the money." I didn't move. I wasn't falling for that again. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever kid. Safe behind the painting over there. Combination's fifteen, two, fifteen."

My confusion threatened to show. Money? What was he talking about? Splinch moved out from under my blade as I tried to figure out what was going on, moving over to the painting. He swung it open on a hinge, reaching inside. Realising he could be reaching for a gun, I started forward, but Splinch held up a stilling hand, revealing a worn, brown duffel bag. He tossed it on the ground at my feet.

"It's all there. I know better than to double-cross Mr Morgenstern." He gestured for me to pick it up, but I stayed still, spinning the knife in my hand. His expression began to sour.

"The money is there. All of it. I know it's late, but...it's all here!"

"He didn't send me here for money."

I took a step forward, knife still twirling across my fingers.

...

"You're going to kill me?" Splinch cocked an eyebrow. "You? What are you, like fourteen?"

I didn't feel the need to correct him, deciding conversation was no longer necessary. Beads of sweat stood out on his face as he began taking steps back, hands raised in surrender. He fell backwards, landing on his chair which slid away.

"Ok, you don't understand kid. There's more to this than Mr Morgenstern has told you, I swear. I needed the money, but I got it back. Please, just let me go. I can pay him back double, whatever he wants!"

"He wants you dead. Whatever you did, it pissed him off."

"Whatever I did? I only borrowed some money to keep myself afloat! It's hard to restart your life when you've been in jail!"

Only borrowed some money? That did seem a bit extreme. And he did have it all here. Could I just take the money to Mr Morgenstern, tell him that Splinch had begged for his forgiveness?

No. That's not what I was sent to do.

Before I could take another step forward, the quick patter of footsteps on the stairs caught my attention.

"Daddy!" A small boy dashed into the room, brushing past my leg and clinging to Splinch's arm. "Daddy I had a nightmare!"

Instantly, Splinch raised his eyes to mine, face desperate. He picked the kid up, wrapping him in a quickly returned hug, pulling him close to his chest and tucking his head away.

"Not my boy," he pleaded softly over his sons lightly curling bed-hair, "Please not my boy. I'll do whatever Mr Morgenstern wants. Anything, I swear."

The little boy turned around and looked at me, lips pouted and eyes red. He couldn't have been older than five. "Daddy, what's going on? Who's that lady?"

"Hush now kiddo. Everything's gonna be okay. I promise."

"But Daddy she has a knife. You said no knives in the house."

"I know, I know, she's going to leave soon, it's okay."

My legs moved unconsciously, putting distance between my blade and Splinch. My blade and my target. But no one said Splinch had a kid. He was so little. How could I...how could I kill Splinch right in front of his kid. But if I didn't, then _I_ was dead. I glanced out the window, wondering if Damien had seen this new development too. The night was still.

That left the decision-making up to me.

Crap.

"Luke, buddy no, come here."

There was a tug on the side of my dress, and I looked down to see the little boy's bright green eyes staring up at me.

He rubbed his eye sleepily. "Why do you have a knife lady? Daddy says knives are bad."

I met eyes with Splinch who was halfway to us, arms outstretched and ready to pull his son away at the first sign I was going to hurt him. Raising my hands to Splinch, I crouched down next to his son.

"Your name's Luke, isn't it?" He nodded. "What was your nightmare about, Luke?"

"Bad men," he sniffled, "Like the ones that took Daddy away."

"Well, Luke," I told him, giving a soft smile, "Lucky for you, I'm here to protect you from the bad men. That's what the knives are for. And don't worry, there's no bad men here." I looked at Splinch, who looked on the verge on tears. "Both of you are safe. I promise. How 'bout you go back to bed, okay?"

Luke smiled widely, nodding. He made his way over to his dad and hugged him, before running out of the room. "Thanks knife lady!"

As his footsteps faded, a weighted silence fell across the room. I turned back to Splinch.

"Do you have somewhere you can go? Somewhere Mr Morgenstern won't find you?"

Splinch blinked, shaking his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not letting that little kid grow up without a father."

Splinch's mouth dropped open in shock. "You're...you're going to let me go? But won't-"

"-Yeah. I'll be murdered if they find out. So it better be one hell of a hideaway." I said. Splinch just stared. "Do you have somewhere, or not?"

"...Well there's a safehouse in Ala-"

"Alaska? Yeah we know that one. Think harder. You need somewhere that we don't know about. Or even better, take that money and get the hell out of America. Go to Australia or something."

Disbelief still covered Splinch's face.

"Focus!" I told him in a firm voice, tossing the bag of money his way. "I'm going to tell Mr Morgenstern that you're dead, but if he find out that you're not, he'll kill you and anyone else in his way."

Splinch noticed my pointed look towards the door and straightened his spine.

"You're right. What do I need to do?"

"Pack nothing. This is my first assignment, Splinch might decide to do one last sweep of the place. You're going to have to make what's in that bag work too, because we're monitoring your bank account. Basically, you've gotta disappear."

"When? How long do I have?"

"As soon as you can. Tonight would be best." I ran a hand over my face. "Crap. Damien."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's fine. But you need to leave tonight. Now. And don't go down street to the right of the main road. That's where the rest of my team is."

"Alright. I'm going to go get Luke." He paused before walking out the door. "Thank you so much. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"For the love of God, don't get caught."

...

Damien was waiting for me outside, leaning against a large spruce tree in Splinch's backyard. And he looked pissed. Before I could get a word out to explain myself, he pushed off the tree, striding towards me.

"You know we have to go after him, right?" he said, gesturing at Splinch's car leaving the driveway, "We're supposed to _kill_ him, Ash. Not help him get away."

"He has a kid, Damien. I'm not gonna orphan some little six-year-old."

Damien only paused for a brief second before shaking his head. "Doesn't change anything. We've got a job to do."

"No. No, Damien, no we can't." I struggled for words, trying to find the right ones to make him understand. "We...we just can't."

"Can and will, Ash."

He went to grab his disposable phone out of his pocket, but I grabbed him arm. "Damien, please." I pleaded. "We can't kill him. He did nothing wrong."

"You don't know that. Dad was mad enough at him to want him dead. He clearly did something horrible."

"He borrowed money. That's all. And he had enough to pay it back. He just needed more time."

"Money?"

"Yes!" I jumped at Damien's hesitation. "He was just trying to make sure his son had a good life. He had gone straight. He wasn't a bad guy anymore."

"Ash, if we don't, my dad is going to-"

"Not if he doesn't know."

Instantly, Damien was shaking his head. "This isn't a movie, Ash. He'll find out. And we'll be dead. Are you willing to risk that?"

"I'm not going to let you kill him."

Damien narrowed his eyes. "Ash. Don't."

"Dame, you don't know where he's going, or what his plan is. I do. And I'm not letting you near him."

The light off the porch glinted in Damien's eyes as he stepped forward. I tensed. To my surprise, he pulled me into a hug, shaking his head.

"You're a stubborn ass, you know that right?"

Letting loose a relieved chuckle, I hugged Damien back, allowing the tension to leave my body. "Yeah. I am."

He pulled away, shaking his head. "What are we going to do?"

I had no clue.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 6 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	28. 28: Celestia

I'm BACK!

I know, I have no excuse. Please take this longer chapter as an apology. I think I'll try and go back to an 8 day schedule, but with a lot of my assignments and exams coming up, we'll see how I go!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.**

* * *

-28-

Celestia

* * *

"You going to ask me, or are you gonna keep thinking until I die of old age?"

Jack and Kenzie both gave me equal part amused and terrified looks, but I ignored them. I just wanted this to be over and done with.

"Celestia Lightwood," the sprite drawled out, letting the name roll over his tongue, "You're a fun one. I'm assuming you've told your friends everything about your...interesting past?"

"Enough."

The sprite raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed with my response.

"I think I know just the question." He smiled, which did not have the intended effect, considering part of his cheek had rotted away. "Celestia, why are you really at Camp Half-Blood?"

Crap. Just the kind of question I was hoping to avoid. "I wanted to find out more about my parents. Malcolm and Nyssa."

"That's a lie." The sword began its gradual, scratching path out of its sheath.

Jack shook his head, eyebrows drawn. "No, that's the truth. She told me."

"Well maybe she didn't tell you everything, Herondale." The sprite seemed to be enjoying himself.

"What? Celestia, he's lying, right?" Jack expression was trusting, but I could see the underlying hurt.

I didn't respond, instead drawing my swords from their scabbards and pointing them at the sprite. "Has anyone ever just killed you instead of answering?"

The sprite laughed, head thrown back and sword still moving. "Oh, foolish demigod. You cannot kill me."

Kenzie grabbed my arm. "Cel, what are you doing? Just answer him and let's go get the heart."

"Kenz, I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why not?" Jack was on the defense now. "Why did you come to Camp Half-Blood?"

"I-," I looked at his imploring expression and shook my head, "Yeah, no, I'm not telling you. Sorry. Now you two get back. This is gonna be one hell of a fight."

"You'd rather fight an immortal sprite than tell us?" Kenzie exclaimed, "Celestia, you won't lose our trust or friendship or anything like that."

"You'd be surprised," I muttered, moving Kenzie over to where Jack was at the back of the cave, "Now stay here. I got this."

Facing the sprite, doubt started to swirl in my stomach. But there was no alternative. No way in Tartarus was I telling anyone why I really came to Camp Half-Blood. It would ruin everything...if I hadn't already.

"You're sure you want to duel me, Lightwood?" The sprite questioned one final time, sword fully drawn, "Surely you would find it easier to answer the question instead."

Taking a defensive stance, I felt smirk creeping onto my face, "Oh you wish buddy."

With a smile of his own appearing, the sprite charged forward.

...

"Celest-"

Dodging the strike Kenzie was calling out, I shook my head. "I got it guys. It'll be over in a second, just wai-"

My shins scraped on the uneven stone as I had to avoid getting decapitated.

"That's it." I heard behind me, followed by the sound of someone drawing their sword.

The sprite instantly stopped, and I took the opportunity to glance back.

"Jack Herondale, if you engage in combat, you will forfeit your life on loss."

"Jack! Don't." I lunged forward, slotting my blade between two of the sprite's exposed ribs, right where his heart would be. If he had one, that was. It didn't have the intended effect, and the sprite simply moved toward me along the blade.

I let go of the hilt and kicked it, forcing back my opponent. My blade disappeared as it hit the wall, already reappearing in its scabbard. Taking another quick look to make sure Jack had stepped back, I redrew my sword. The sprite pushed himself off the wall, brushing away some dust that had settled on his coat.

"You cannot harm me demigod. Even your blades, as impressive as they are, cannot halt the will of Chaos, the first. He wants me here, so here I shall stay. And unless you answer truthfully, your remains will stay here as well."

"We'll see about that."

The sprite charged forward, and I met his strike, shoulders aching from the effort it took. I had used too much energy with that giant fire blast earlier. We'd only just started fighting, and I was already bone-tired.

Pun not intended.

What if I couldn't beat this guardian?

Would it really be easier for me to just tell the truth?

I looked over to Jack and Kenzie.

Would it hurt them more if I told them, or would it be worse to make them finish the quest without me, making it more likely they would fail, that Chaos would rein?

This was more complicated than I thought.

But a bit too late to be questioning myself.

The sprite had taken my hesitation to his advantage, swinging more aggressively, xiphos cutting the air in front of me. The uneven ground made my retreat dangerous, rocks scattering under my feet and putting me off balance. And the sprite didn't stop swinging. I hissed as one strike opened a thin cut across my arm.

My back hit the wall, and the sprite reared back for a strike.

I skidded between his legs, jumping back up in an instant and moving backwards once again. But as the sprite turned, my feet slid out from under me, and I stumbled back. I only had time to raise my head before the sword was whistling towards me. It flew over my head as I dropped flat to the ground, kicking out and making contact with the sprite's knee. It went sideways, clearly dislocated, possibly even broken. The small spark of hope in my chest died as the sprite simply reached down and pushed it back into place. I tried to regain my feet, but the sprite kicked me, hard, sending me flying back into the wall. Sharp rocks cut my cheek as I hit the ground, aching all over, struggling to get up. I could hear the sprite getting closer, the sword moving to strike, but I couldn't move. My swords were just out of my reach.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the sprite's blade coming down to strike, and I curled myself into a ball, hoping to shield my body from as much damage as possible. But instead of pain, grunts and the sound of steel on steel reached my ears.

No!

Groaning and raising my hand to my ribs, I pulled myself up, eyesight spinning slightly. But not enough that I couldn't make out Jack and the sprite in a flurry of motion, blocking and striking. Before I could move any further, there were arms around me pulling me up.

"Come on Cel, we're getting you outta here." Kenzie strained placing my arm around her shoulder. "Jack, I got her!"

Jack simply grunted in return.

"Kenz no," I mumbled, "We don't know which door yet."

"Well, we'll just have to make an educated guess. I mean, it's only 50-50, right? I'm gonna go left."

She moved over to the opening on the left, practically dragging me. The sprite noticed, disengaging with Jack and running towards us. Kenzie dropped me ungracefully onto the stone, extending her shield and holding her knife close by her side. As the sprite came close enough for me to see his teeth through his flapping cheek, Kenzie drove forward, slamming him back to where Jack was waiting.

We made slow process through the door as Jack kept the sprite occupied, not letting it have even a second to spare.

"You cannot leave!" It bellowed as Kenzie and I passed the entrance of the opening. "Without answering the question, you cannot know which door is the correct one!"

"We pick this one," Kenzie answered, giving the sprite a thumbs up.

Jack shadow-travelled over as Kenzie brought out her shield, throwing it hard against the ceiling. It cracked and large rocks began to fall as we moved deeper inside, both Jack and Kenzie holding me up. We heard the sprite shrieking behind us, but soon the blocked tunnel had cut of all noise except for our laboured breathing.

"Well that was eventful," I commented, before passing out.

...

"Oh hey, you're awake."

I cracked open an eye in the darkened room. "Is that bacon?"

Kenzie placed a plastic plate on my chest, filled to the brim with juicy, tantalising bacon. With a groan, I sat up, shoving five pieces in my mouth and nodding. "-S good."

"How are you feeling?" Kenzie smiled and I nodded.

"I think I'm alright. Where did you get bacon from?"

"I shoved as much food as I could into my pockets before we ditched the car. Figured we'd probably need to eat at some point. Some of it just happened to be bacon."

Oh wow, I hadn't even thought of bringing food.

"You're a genius, Kenz. But where'd you get the fire from?"

"I just used Jack's lighter," Kenzie chuckled, and I joined in, trying to picture it.

Our laughs echoed around the corridor. It felt good to laugh.

"How long did that take?" I snorted, "You must have really been craving some bacon."

"Well, you two were both comatose, I had to pass the time somehow," Kenzie shrugged.

"Wait, both of us? Is Jack ok?" I couldn't see him anywhere in the corridor. Although I could hardly see Kenzie, so he might've been right in front of me.

"Yeah he's fine now, just scoping out the path ahead." Kenzie pointed over her shoulder. "He passed out for a little after healing you."

"That way?"

"Yeah. Here, take some bacon with you. He's probably hungry."

I found him around a couple corners, sitting on the ground and throwing rocks at the opposite walls. He seemed deep in thought, so I started to turn back around, but he looked up.

"Hi. You're up."

"Yeah. I brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry." He turned back to the wall. "Are you ready to keep moving?"

"Yeah, I guess. Thanks for healing me."

"Don't mention it."

He sounded like he actually didn't want me to mention it. Was he pissed or something?

Oh. Right.

"I'm sorry I didn't just tel-"

"Don't bother, Celestia."

Taken aback, I tried again. "I would have bu-"

"I said don't bother. I don't care why you didn't." I could practically see the anger radiating from Jack's eyes. "You put Kenzie and I in danger, not to mention yourself. Again. For a daughter of Athena, your battle strategy sucked."

"Jack…"

"Can you just go get Kenzie. We need to keep moving."

I wanted to push it further, make him understand. But he clearly needed some space. I wish it hadn't come to this, but there was no way I could tell him, or Kenzie, why I was really here. They'd ditch me in an instant, if that was all they did.

And, against all my intentions, I'd grown rather attached to them.

...

The silence in the corridor felt like it was weighing down on my shoulders, driving me into the ground. It was my fault there was so much tension between us now. It seemed like all would take was a spark to set off Jack, who had stormed off ahead as soon as we had started walking again. Kenzie had hung back with me, but I knew she had her suspicions and doubts too. She hadn't asked, but I could see that she was nearly bursting with questions.

The constant walking and darkness was getting to me too, making me anxious. Hopefully, we would be near the heart by now. Or if not, we were at least heading in the right direction.

What if we picked the wrong the tunnel? It would be my fault if we had. Should I just have told them why I was here?

Gods, why was this so complicated?

"There's a light up ahead. Let's get moving."

Jack strided off towards yet another corridor. But this one had torches lining the walls and extended much longer than those we'd been through. I felt the tension in my shoulders relax as I realised I could clearly make out Kenzie's face next to me. She smiled back, also clearly relieved. Jack, however, simply continued forward, strides long and angry.

Our footsteps echoed on the stone as we made our way down the corridor, hardly paying attention. We had walked down so many of these corridors, all the exact same.

It was letting our guard down that was our mistake.

Jack was still way ahead of us, not bothering wait for us to catch up. The first warning was a sharp click that rang in our ears. The next, milliseconds later was the shifting walls. I only had time to look at Kenzie, eyes open in shock, before the walls opened, revealing dozens of crossbows set in the stone, strings drawn taut.

The room was frozen in shock. Jack was staring down at his foot, shaking his head.

"It's a pressure sensor. If I move my foot, those crossbows are gonna fire."

Kenzie and I both said some very colourful words.

"Ok, I'm gonna see if I can disable them."

I went to step forward, but Kenzie caught my arm. "Don't move Cel. What if there's more sensors?"

Glancing around I realised that large parts of the walls were still intact, including around where Kenzie and I were standing. She was probably right. But we needed to get those crossbows off Jack.

I shook my head. "Ok guys, what's the plan? Jack how far can you reach with your other foot?"

"I'm still in front of the bows. Plus, I don't think I could hop that fast."

"Alright so not that." Kenzie said. "What about the wall, can you reach it?"

"You mean can I poke the sharp death machines right next to my head? Yeah. "

"Jack, we're trying to help."

"I know, I know."

"What about shadow-travelling? Could you move fast enough to get out of there?"

"I...I'm not sure."

"Ok Jack just wait there. We'll figure something out."

Kenzie was shaking her head. "Cel, we can't get to him and he can't move fast enough to get out."

"And one wrong move messing with those crossbows and he's target practice. I know."

"Then what in Hades do we do?"

Instead of answering, I looked at the floor. Unlike the rest of the tunnels, it was covered in individual slabs of rock. And any one could set off another trap. But what other option did we have? We needed to get closer to Jack. Before Kenzie could pull me back, I tapped the stone directly in front of ours. It felt solid. Jack and Kenzie both made noises of protest as I stepped forward. But it didn't move. Trying not to let the transparency of my plan show, I tapped the stone to my left. It moved slightly under my toe, but there was no click. Quickly retracting my foot, I turned back to Kenz.

"Got anything to mark this with, Kenz?"

After a brief pause, she shook herself, checking in her pockets.

"Uh, does lip balm work?"

"Close enough."

She passed it to me as I knelt down. Carefully, and more gently than I had ever done anything in my life, I marked the trap with an x, the lipbalm leaving a sticky, light pink trail on the stone. I stood back up slowly, meeting eyes with Jack. He shrugged.

"Good a plan as any. But if you hear a click, you better hope you have fast reflexes."

And who knows that other kinds of traps were hidden in the walls. I turned back to Kenzie, who was shaking her head.

"It's a release mechanism and you know it. If you press too hard when testing a stone, you're stuck just like Jack."

"That's why you're gonna stay here as our back-up. If I get stuck , you're gonna need to get us out of here."

"Do you even have a plan?"

"I should be able to disable the crossbows, or at least enough that Jack can get out of the way. Then we'll just have to test the rest of the stones on our way out. No biggie."

Tap. Step. Tap. Mark. Tap. Mark.

It continued like this for several minutes, and I got more confident with each passing stone.

Soon Jack was only a couple of stones ahead of me, close enough that the heads of the arrows were glinting in my eyes. I tried the stone in front of me, lightly tapping it with my finger. It dipped and I hastily pulled my hand back. Making it with the chapstick, I moved onto the one on its left. It was trapped as well. Swallowing the feeling of dread that was threatening to choke me, I check the last one.

Crap.

"Cel? You good?" Kenz called.

"This whole row is trapped. Jack how did you miss them?"

"I have long strides ," he shrugged,

"Cel, can't you just step over it?"

"But I don't know which ones are trapped or not in the next row."

"Well check then!"

"You can't reach, can you?" Jack answered for me. "It'll be a guess which one is safe."

"Jack can you reach?" Kenzie asked. "I can't really see from here."

Jack leaned forward, getting as low to the ground as he could. He began to stretch out an arm. A sigh of relief billowed out of my chest. Jack could reach them. He could check whether they were trapped or not. Inches from the stones, there was a thunk.

"Jack freeze!"

He closed his eyes, face scrunched up in anticipation of the crossbows firing. All Kenzie and I could do was watch.

But nothing happened.

"Jack stay exactly where you are." I said softly, moving my hands in a calming gesture. "If you move at all..."

He swore under his breath, but nodded his head a tiny bit.

I considered my options. Jack couldn't move, or the crossbows would go off. Kenzie was back behind me, and she was shorter than me, so wouldn't have any longer reach than me. I needed to extend my reach somewow.

Oh, wow. I'm an idiot.

Standing up, I drew my swords from their sheaths.

"Cel?"

"I'm gonna use these to tap the stones." I told Kenzie, "Jack's fine. He's just in a different position."

Slight lie, but I didn't want her panicking. Not that she would, but just in case. Jacks arms were shaking slightly as I bobbed down, extending a sword.

Tap.

It was solid.

"Oh thank the gods," I muttered, "Ok. I'm gonna jump now. Jack, you holding up ok?"

He grunted, a very descriptive answer, but probably fair considering he had to hold completely still or risk getting impaled on _quite_ a few crossbow arrows.

I counted down the jump in my head.

3.

2.

1.

...

I pushed off the stone, clearing the trapped row. Landing in a crouch, I glanced around, making sure I wasn't touch any of the stones.

All clear.

I gave a thumbs up to Kenzie, who whooped in return. I smiled at Jack, but he had his head down, focussing on not moving. Right, I needed to disable these things fast. He was bent over in a really awkward position, which could not be easy to hold. I tapped the stone on the left, but it was trapped, then the one of the right, which wasn't. Stepping onto it, I counted the rows until I reached Jack.

Only two.

"Nearly there, Jack. Just hold in there."

Not even a grunt in response.

The middle one was safe, and suddenly I was right in front of Jack, only one row of stones separating us.

The middle stone was trapped so I marked it , moving onto the one on the left; the one that would put me closer to the crossbows. Jack let out a shaky breath as tapped it.

Yes!

It was safe, so I hopped forward. Only one more row and then-

"Cel."

Jack's voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm gonna fall. You gotta get away from the crossbows." His arms were shaking like he was in an earthquake and sweat beaded his forehead. "I can hold out for a couple more seconds go. Get back."

Crap.

The stone he was going to fall onto was trapped as well. And if he moved his foot too much, the crossbows would go off. He couldn't move.

"Jack you got-"

"I can't! Get back!" he yelled through clenched teeth, shaking his head. "Please, Celestia, please get back."

You know how in movies, when something bad happens, everything goes into slow motion? Well, that's what it felt like. I saw Jack's arms give out, and his eyes meet mine with fear. I felt my body move on instinct, barrelling towards him. I heard Kenzie shout in the background.

At some point I closed my eyes.

...

Muscles straining, I held Jack off the ground, my knees right on the edge of my safe stone. His feet hadn't moved. We weren't touching the trapped stone beneath us.

But Gods he was heavy.

"Cel. What are you doing?"

"Saving. You. Idiot." I grunted, arms feeling like they were going to snap at any moment. "This stone's trapped as well."

Jack's eyes widened. "You can't hold me forever."

"I'm gonna try. Kenz! We need you help!"

"On my way!"

"Hurry! Please!"

"And watch out for the trapped stones!" Jack added, "We don't need any more of that."

As Kenzie started to make her way down the corridor, Jack turned his head as well as he could in my direction.

"You were supposed to run."

"If you'd fallen you would have set off another trap that might have wiped out the whole corridor." I grunted.

I could see the beginnings of a smile on Jack's face. "Of course."

Risking a glance at Kenzie, I saw that she was still rows and rows away. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips as I readjusted. Jack was getting heavier by the second.

"Can you reach the stone in front of you? It's safe."

"Are you sure you can hold me?"

"I'll be fine just try."

"But what about my foot?"

"Crap."

My arms shuddered and Jack dropped an inch in my arms. Before I could recover and pull him back up, another click sounded. I closed my eyes, taking in a haltering breath. My upper body felt like it was on fire. I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.

"Kenz." I ground out and she yelled something about staying where I was. But I was in too much pain to hear.

"Cel..."

"Don't start that crap with me, Jack."

"Drop me and dodge to the side. Whatever I activate here will probably miss you."

"Not gonna happen."

"Then throw me back to the crossbo-"

"-Jack." my voice sounded sharp even to me. "Stop. Just stop. I'm not gonna let you die."

"Better than both of us dying."

"I said stop."

Muscles cried out in protest and I groaned, still managing to keep Jack stable. "Kenzie will be here soon. She'll help me hold you up. It'll be fine."

"Celestia we both know you can't hold out for that long."

He was right. It was taking all I had not to drop him right now.

But he couldn't know that.

"How far away?"

"Five more rows. You didn't label with one was safe, just the ones that weren't."

I should have thought of that. Why didn't I think of that?

I clenched my teeth as another spasm of pain ran up the muscles in my back. I was losing strength.

I was going to drop him.

"Jack."

"It's ok."

"No-"

"-No, I don't care anymore why you came to camp. Or why you didn't tell us. You're one of the best friend I've ever had, Celestia. I trust you."

Without warning, my legs gave out and I fell on top of Jack. The mechanism beneath us clicked as we landed on it, and the one under Jack's foot released with a loud clang.

"Move! Move!" Kenzie screamed, but my muscles wouldn't react.

"I'm so sorry Jack." I whispered, preparing for the crossbows to fire. "You should never have trusted me."

"Cel. You need to learn to trust _me_."

...

Jack rolled over, arms wrapped firmly around me. The cool darkness I now recognised as the shadow world wrapped around us as Jack pushed off with his back foot, thrusting both of us forward. We rolled, still cloaked in tendrils of shadows, cushioning us from the hard floor, and meaning we didn't set off any more traps. If I'd had to time, I would have probably admired Jack's plan. But I was a little busy trying to make sure I didn't let go of him. I did not want to find out what happened if I accidentally got left behind in the shadow world.

The section of floor beneath us started to cave away, revealing a pit full of spears underneath. I yelled, clutching tighter to Jack, who twisted so that he was facing up, back barrelling toward the spears. He muttered something under his breath, and and we fazed right through the spears, the sharp points only sending chills through my body instead of gaping holes. We hit the floor with a noticeable thump. Were we getting more solid?

"Quick!" Jack yelled, pulling me up and to the edge of the spears.

We pressed ourselves to the far wall, closest to where Kenzie would find us. The spears were only inches away. One wrong move…

With a snap, the world burst back into colour, and I could make out dried blood on the spearheads. That was too close.

"Kenz! We're down here!"

After a couple seconds, Kenzie's worried face appeared over the edge. "Oh thank the gods. Are you guys ok?"

"I think so. Jack?"

He nodded up at Kenzie, hand pressed to his leg, "Just a scratch. I'm fine. Get us the hell out of here."

It took a couple minutes and one close scare to get us out of the pit, but eventually we were all safely seated on a stone, catching our breath. Out of nowhere, Kenzie punched me in the shoulder, hard.

"Kenz what was th-"

"What in _Hades_ were you _thinking_?! If you hadn't rushed off on impulse and tried to save Jack on your own, we could have avoided this whole mess. You didn't _think_ , Celestia."

"Kenz, she was trying to save me-"

"And _you_. Striding off ahead like the edgy teenage boy you reckon you are." Kenzie fumed. "If both of you had just stopped for a second and thought, none of this would have happened! And if I hadn't been here, you would have both been dead. Dead. And this isn't the first time. It's like looking after _children_." There was a surprising amount of venom in Kenzie's voice, rendering Jack and I silent.

She shook her head, angrily wiping away a loose tear, jaw set. "We're a team. We're the only chance _everyone_ has against Chaos. And sometimes it feels like…"

She was right. We needed to trust each other. Work together. And we just weren't at the moment. Before I could register it, my mouth was moving.

"Kenzie, I'm sorry. I'm in the wrong." Usually the apology would feel forced, but this time it was true. "I…I haven't really worked with a team before. And, you're right, I wasn't thinking it through, wasn't letting you help..."

I kept my eyes on the floor during this little impromptu speech, not able to meet their eyes. "I think I act rashly because I want to make sure you and Jack are safe. Nothing else really matters in that moment, just that you guys are ok."

"And I think that's the same with me." Jack mumbled, fiddling with his shirt. "I've lost people right in front of me, been cut off from others. I…I can't lose anyone else. Especially not you two. You're the closest thing I have to a family."

The word cut like a spear through my stomach. A family. Is that what we were? A cocky, self-sacrificing nerd, an impulsive, hot-tempered edgelord, and a kind, considerate girl who had to put up with us? My head spun as Kenzie sighed.

"I understand. I do. But please, don't leave me behind like that again. I was too far away to do anything, and when the crossbows fired, and the floor disappeared, and I couldn't see you guys anywhere." She took a steadying breath. "Just not again, ok."

Jack and I nodded, and Kenzie gave a soft smile in return. Glad that everyone had aired their feelings, I turned to the gaping pit in front of us, blocking our way forward. How were we going to get past that?

"I guess we climb back down and move through?" Jack said, leaning over too, "Climb back up the other side?"

I was about to agree, but instead looked to Kenzie, raising my eyebrows. She grinned.

"Geez Cel, that didn't mean that you had to ask my permission for everything. That seems like our only option. Let's hit it."

...

"Only one may enter? What kind of bullcrap is this?" Jack poked the wall. "How do we open it?"

"Jack, I tried already," I sighed, "It won't budge."

I had, quite literally, run into this door when I was scouting ahead. Engraved along the top was the words 'Only one may enter'. In Greek, of course. I had tried to force it open, pry it open with my swords, even burn it down. But the feeble wooden door just sat there, uncharred and unharmed. By the time I had gone back and woken up Kenzie and Jack, I had nearly convinced myself I had imagined it. Cave fever, maybe. But we had found it right where I had left it. Now, we were trying to figure out what to do with it.

"What about the hinges?" Kenzie said. "Could we just unscrew them?"

Jack reached forward to try but yelped, sucking on a finger, "It zapped me!"

So that's a no then. But was it charmed, or was it sentient?

"Kenz. Can you try charm-speaking it?"

"Cel…it's a door?"

"Yeah, yeah, just try it."

Kenz raised her hands in surrender, stepping forward from where she was leaning against the tunnel wall. She made as if to say something, but stopped, frown creasing her forehead. She coughed, grabbing at her throat, before turning away and gasping for air.

"What the hell?" She spluttered. "It stopped me. I couldn't say anything."

"Ok that's what I thought might happen." Kenz gave me a frustrated look and I raised my hands in apology. "Sorry, sorry, I wanted to test a theory."

"Well what was it?"

"I thought it might be a projection of some sort. And that by charm-speaking it, you could reach through the projection to the projector."

Jack smirked. "You think too much. The door's enchanted."

I went to scoff, but then realised he was probably right.

"So what? It will only open if one of us goes in?"

"I guess? I dunno. I'm not exactly the expert on enchantments."

Guess it would be handy to have Nisha around right about now. This was kinda her thing. But now we had a problem.

Who would go?

"I'll go," I said at the exact same time as Jack.

We both looked to Kenzie, who frowned. "No, I'll go. You two just nearly died. Sit this one out."

"Kenz, we don't know what's on the other side of that door," Jack told her gently, "And Celestia and I are better fighters than you. It should be one of us."

"It might not even involve fighting." Kenzie didn't sound very convinced in her argument. After a couple seconds of weighted silence, she sighed, "Yes, yes, ok. Ok, one of you go."

Her expression was hurt, and I knew she didn't want to be left out of the fight again. But it was true. We had no idea what would happen, and Jack and I had the fighting advantage over her. But which of us would go?

"I can shadow-travel out if something goes wrong."

"Yeah, but if something does go wrong you're our healer. You can't heal yourself, Jack."

"If something goes wrong, you're not coming back out."

"Ok fine. But once I'm in there, I am more likely to come up with a battle strategy."

"Says who?!"

"Well, I'm a daughter of Athena, aren't I?"

"Yeah and your strategies have turned out great so far haven't they?" Jack scoffed.

I was about to say something _scathing_ in retaliation, when Kenzie shushed us. "Come on guys. We just talked about this. Teamwork. Let's take a vote. I think Jack should go."

I gaped at Kenzie in betrayal. She shrugged in answer. "He can get out if the situation's too hairy, tell us what's inside."

"But…" I mean, she was right. But I didn't want this to rest on anyone else's shoulders. I could handle whatever was in there by myself, and if Jack went in, I would be left here, sitting, doing nothing.

Oh, I just heard myself. This is _exactly_ what Kenzie has to go through every time I do something reckless. _Oh_.

Jack raised an eyebrow at me. "Is that expression a yes?"

"I...just let me think about this."

Running a finger over the engravings on the door, I weighed our options. Jack probably was the best choice. It would be hard to sit back and let him handle it, but I would just have to suck it up. He was perfectly capable of handling himself.

"Ok." I turned back around. "Ok, Jack, you go." Jack whooped, striking a fist into the air. I couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm, leaning back. "Geez Jack, we aren't going to Disn-"

...

Dust stung my eyes as I coughed, elbows braced on the ground. What in Hades? Had the door just...opened? I quickly rolled over.

The door was gone.

Crap.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


	29. HI

Omg I'm alive. I know, trippy. School is picking back up, but I've starting writing again, so you can expect some new chapters soon!

I mean hopefully. I have promised this before lol.

BUT POSITIVES. I shall try my best, and the next chapter is a fair way through. Bear with me, I will deliver eventually.

And for everyone who thought this was a new chapter and got hyped...I mean that's pretty optimistic but kudos to your faith in me lol.

You'll hear from me soon!

-excusemewhileiasdfghjkl


End file.
